The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924075867055 
 
CORNELL UNIVI kllTV LIBRARY 
 
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WOODSTOC K 
 
 Ok the cavalier 
 
 BV 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 

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WOODSTOCK 
 
 THE CAVALIER 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 WITH STEEL PLATES FROM DESIGNS BY 
 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK AND OTHER ARTISTS 
 
 NEW EDITION, WITH THE AtTTHOR'S NOTES 
 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS 
 
 1876 
 
i.oNnoK : 
 
 BRADBURY, AGNE'.V, & CO., PKlNTiriCS, \VJ[iTFI-"RIAR=;, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The busy period of the great Civil War was one in which the 
 character and genius of different parties were most brilliantly dis- 
 played, and, accordingly, the incidents which took place on either 
 side were of a striking and extraordinary character, and afforded 
 ample foundation for fictitious composition. The author had in 
 some measure attempted such in Peveril of the Peak ; but the 
 scene was in a remote part of the kingdom, and mingled with other 
 national differences, which left him still at liberty to glean another 
 harvest out of so ample a store. 
 
 In these circumstances, some wonderful adventures which hap- 
 pened at Woodstock in the year 1649, occurred to him as some- 
 thing he had long ago read of, although he was unable to tell 
 where, and of which the hint appeared sufficient, although, doubt- 
 less, it might have been much better handled if the author had not, 
 in the lapse of time, lost every thing like an accurate recollection 
 of the real story. 
 
 It was not until about this period, namely, 1831, that the author, 
 being called upon to write this Introduction, obtained a general 
 account of what really happened upon the marvellous occasion in 
 question, in a work termed " The Every-day Book," pubhshed by 
 Mr. Hone, and full of curious antiquarian research, the object being 
 to give a variety of original information concerning manners, illus- 
 trated by curious instances, rarely to be found elsewhere. Among 
 other matter, Mr. Hone quotes an article from the British Maga- 
 zine for 1747, in the following words, and which is probably the 
 document which the author of Woodstock had formerly perused, 
 although he was unable to refer to the source of his information. 
 The tract is entitled, " The Genuine History of the Good Devil of 
 Woodstock, famous in the world, in the year 1649, and never 
 accounted for, or at all understood to this time." 
 
 The teller of this " Genuine History" proceeds verbatim as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " Some original papers having lately fallen into my hands, under 
 the name of ' Authentic Memoirs of the Memorable Joseph Collins 
 
6 INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 of Oxford, commonly known by the name of Funny Joe, and now 
 intended for the press,' I was extremely delighted to find in them 
 a circumstantial and unquestionable account of the most famous 
 of all invisible agents, so well known in the year 1649, under the 
 name of the Good Devil of Woodstock, and even adored by the 
 people of that place, for the vexation and distress it occasioned 
 some people they were not much pleased with. As this famous 
 story, though related by a thousand people, and attested in all its 
 circumstances, beyond all possibility of doubt, by people of rank, 
 learning, and reputation, of Oxford and the adjacent towns, has 
 never yet been generally accounted for, or at all understood, and 
 is perfectly explained, in a manner that can admit of no doubt, in 
 these papers, I could not refuse my readers the pleasure it gave 
 me in reading." 
 
 There is, therefore, no doubt that, in the year 1649, a number of 
 incidents, supposed to be supernatural, took place at the King's 
 palace of Woodstock, which the Commissioners of Parliament 
 were then and there endeavouring to dilapidate and destroy. The 
 account of this by the Commissioners themselves, or under their 
 authority, was repeatedly published, and, in particular, is inserted 
 as relation sixth of Satan's Invisible World Discovered, by George 
 Sinclair, Professor of Philosophy in Glasgow, an approved col- 
 lector of such tales. 
 
 It was the object of neither of the great political parties of that 
 day to discredit this narrative, which gave great satisfaction both 
 to the cavaliers and roundheads ; the former conceiving that the 
 license given to the demons, was in consequence of the impious 
 desecration of the King's furniture and apartments, so that the 
 citizens of Woodstock almost adored the supposed spirits, as 
 avengers of the cause of royalty ; while the friends of the Parlia- 
 ment, on the other hand, imputed to the malice of the fiend the 
 obstruction of the pious work, as they judged that which they had 
 in hand. 
 
 At the risk of prolonging a curious quotation, I include a page 
 or two from Mr. Hone's Every-day Book. 
 
 " The honourable the Commissioners arrived at Woodstock 
 manor-house, October 13th, and took up their residence in the 
 King's own rooms. His Majesty's bedchamber they made their 
 kitchen, the council-hall their pantry, and the presence-chamber 
 was the place where they sat for dispatch of business. His Ma- 
 jesty's dining-room they made their wood-yard, and stowed it with 
 no other wood but that of the famous Royal Oak from the High 
 Park, which, that nothing might be left with the name of the King 
 about it, they had dug up by the roots, and bundled up into fagots 
 for their firing. 
 
WOODSTOCK. ij 
 
 " October i6th. This day they first sat for the dispatch of 
 business. In the midst of their first debate there entered a large 
 black dog, (as they thought,) which made a terrible howling, over- 
 turned two or three of their chairs, and doing some other damage, 
 went under the bed, and there gnawed the cords. The door this 
 while continued constantly shut, when, after some two or three 
 hours, Giles Sharp, their secretary, looking under the bed, per- , 
 ceived that the creature was vanished, and that a plate of meat 
 that the servants had hid there was untouched, a;nd showing them 
 to their honours, they were all convinced there could be no real 
 dog concerned in the case ; the said Giles also deposed on oath, 
 that, to his certain knowledge, there was not. 
 
 " October 17th. As they were this day sitting at dinner in a 
 lower room, they heard plainly the noise of persons walking over 
 head, though they well knew the doors were all locked, and there 
 could be none there. Presently after they heard also all the wood 
 of the King's Oak brought by parcels from the dining-room, and 
 thrown with great violence into the presence-chamber, as also the 
 chairs, stools, tables, and other furniture, forcibly hurled about the 
 room, their own papers of the minutes of their transactions torn, 
 and the ink-glass broken. When all this had some time ceased, 
 the said Giles proposed to enter first into these rooms, and, in 
 presence of the Commissioners, of whom he received the key, he 
 opened th^ door and entered the room, their honours following 
 him. He there found the wood strewed about the room, the chairs 
 tossed. about and broken, the papers torn, and the ink-glass broken 
 over them all as they had heard, yet no footsteps appeared of any 
 person whatever being there, nor had the doors ever been opened 
 to admit or let out any persons since their honours were last there. 
 It was therefore voted, item, con., that the person who did this 
 mischief could have entered no other way than at tlie key-hole of 
 the said doors. 
 
 " In the night following this same day, the said Giles, and two 
 other of the Commissioners? servants, as they were in bed in the 
 same room with their honours, had their bed's feet lifted up so 
 much higher than their heads, that they expected to have their 
 necks broken, and then they were let fall at once with such violence 
 as shook them up from the bed to a good distance ; and this was 
 repeated many times, their honours being amazed spectators of it. 
 In the morning the bedsteads were found cracked and broken, and 
 the said Giles and his fellows declared they were sore to the bones 
 with the tossing and jolting of the beds. 
 
 " October 19th. As they were all in bed together, the candles 
 were all blown out together with a sulphurous smell, and instantly 
 many trenchers of wood were hurled about the room ; and one of 
 
8 INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 them putting his head above the clothes, had not less than six 
 thrown at him, which wounded him very grievously. In the 
 morning the trenchers were all found lying about the room, and 
 were observed to be the same they had eaten on the day before, 
 none being found remaining in the pantry. 
 
 " October 20th. This night the candles were put out as before ; 
 the cwrtains of the bed in which their honours lay, were drawn to 
 and fro many times with great violence : their honours received 
 many cruel blows, and were much bruised beside, with eight great 
 pewter dishes, and three dozen wooden trenchers, which were 
 thrown on the bed, and afterwards heard rolling about the room. 
 
 " Many times also this night they heard the forcible falling of 
 many fagots by their bedside, but in the morning no fagots were 
 found there, no dishes or trenchers were there seen either ; and 
 the aforesaid Giles attests, that by their different arranging in the 
 pantiy, they had assuredly been taken thence, and after put there 
 again. 
 
 " October 21st. The keeper of their ordinary and his bitch lay 
 with them : This night they had no disturbance. 
 
 " October 22d. Candles put out as before. They had the said 
 bitch with them again, but were not by that protected ; the bitch 
 set up a very piteous cry ; the clothes of their beds were all pulled 
 off, and the bricks, without any wind, were thrown off the chimney 
 tops into the midst. 
 
 " October 24tb. The candles put out as before. They thought 
 all the wood of the King's Oak was violently thrown down by their 
 bedsides ; they counted sixty-four fagots that fell with great 
 violence, and some hit and' shook the bed, — but in the morning 
 none were fouj d there, noi liie door of the room opened in which 
 the said fagots were. 
 
 "October 25th. The candles put out as before. The curtains 
 of the bed in the drawing-room were many times forcibly drawn ; 
 he wood thrown out as before ; a terrible crack like thunder was 
 heard ; and one of the servants, running to see if his master was 
 not killed, found, at his return, three dozen trenchers laid smoothly 
 upon his bed under the quilt. 
 
 " October 26th. The beds were shaken as before ; the windows 
 seemed all broken to pieces, and glass fell in vast quantities all 
 about the room. In the morning they found the windows all whole, 
 but the floor strewed with broken glass, which they gathered and 
 laid by. 
 
 " October 29th. At midnight candles went out as before ; some- 
 thing walked majestically through the room, and opened and shut 
 the window ; great stones were thrown violently into the room, 
 some whereof fell on the beds, others on the floor ; and about a 
 
WOODSTOCK, 9 
 
 quarter after one, a noise was heard as of forty cannon discharged 
 together, and again repeated at about eight minutes' distance. 
 Tliis alarmed and raised all the neighbourhood, who, coming into 
 their honours' room, gathered up the great stones, fourscore in 
 number, many of them like common pebbles and boulters, and laid 
 them by, where they are to be seen to this day, at a corner of the 
 adjoining field. This noise, like the discharge of cannon, was 
 heard throughout the country for sixteen miles round. During 
 these noises, which were heard in both rooms together, both the 
 Commissioners and their servants gave one another over for lost, 
 and cried out for help ; and Giles Sharp, snatching up a sword, 
 had wellnigh killed one of their honours, taking him for the spirit 
 as he came in his shirt into the room. While they were together, 
 the noise was continued, and part of the tiling of the house, and all 
 the windows of an upper room, were taken away with it. 
 
 " October 30th. Something walked into the chamber, treading 
 like a bear ; it walked many times about, then threw the warming- 
 pan violently upon the floor, and so bruised it that it was spoiled. 
 Vast quantities of glass were now thrown about the room, and vast 
 numbers of great stones and horses' bones were thrown in ; these 
 were all found in the morning, and the floors, beds, and walls were 
 all much damaged by the violence they were thrown in. 
 
 " November ist. Candles were placed in all parts of the room, 
 and a great fire made. At midnight, the candles all yet burning, a 
 noise like the burst of a cannon was heard in the room, and the 
 burning billets were tossed all over the room and about the beds ; 
 and had not their honours called in Giles and his fellows, the house 
 had assuredly been burnt. An hour after the candles went out, as 
 usual, the clack of many cannon was heard, and many pailfuls of 
 green stinking water were thrown on their honours in bed ; great 
 stones were also thrown in as before, the bed-curtains and bedsteads 
 torn and broken : the windows were now all really broken, and the 
 whole neighbourhood alarmed with the noises ; nay, the very rabbit- 
 stealers that were abroad that night in the warren, were so frightened 
 at the dismai thundering, that they fled for fear, and left their 
 ferrets behind them. 
 
 " One of their honours this night spoke, and in the name of God 
 asked what it was, and why it disturbed them so ? No answer was 
 given to this ; but the noise ceased for a while, when the spirit 
 came again, and as they all agreed, brought with it seven devils 
 worse than itself. One of the servants now lighted a large candle, 
 and set it in the doorway between the two chambers, to see what 
 passed ; and as he * watched it, he plainly saw a hoof striking the 
 candle and candlestick into the middle of the room, and afterwards 
 making three scrapes over the snuff of the candle, to scrape it out, 
 
10 INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 Upon this, the same person was so bold as to draw a sword ; but 
 he had scarce got it out, when he perceived another invisible hand 
 had hold of it too, and pulled with him for it, and at last prevailing, 
 struck him so violently on the head with the pommel, that he fell 
 down for dead with the blow. At this instant was heard another 
 burst like the discharge of the broadside of a ship of war, and at 
 about a minute or two's distance each, no less than nineteen more 
 such ; these shook the house so violently, that they expected every 
 moment it would fall upon their heads. The neighbours on this 
 were all alarmed, and, running to the house, they all joined in 
 prayer and psalm-singing, during which the noise continued in the 
 other rooms, and the discharge of cannon without, though nobody 
 was there." 
 
 Dr. Plot concludes his relation of this memorable event * with 
 observing, that, though tricks have often been played in affairs of 
 this kind, many of these things are not reconcilable with juggling ; 
 such as, 1st, The loud noises beyond the power of man to make, 
 without instruments which were not there ; 2d, The tearing and 
 breaking of the beds ; 3d, The throwing about the fire ; 4th, The 
 hoof treading out the candle ; and, 5th, The striving for the sword, 
 and the blow the man received from the pommel of it. 
 
 To show how great men are sometimes deceived, we may recur 
 to a tract, entitled " The Secret History of the Good Devil of 
 Woodstock" in which we find it, under the author's own hand, that 
 he, Joseph Collins, commonly called Funny Joe, was himself this 
 very devil ; — that, under the feigned name of Giles Sharp, he hired 
 himself as a servant to the Commissioners ; — that by the help of 
 two friends — an unknown trapdoor in the ceiling of the bed-chamber, 
 and a pound of common gunpowder— he played all these extra- 
 ordinary tricks by himself ; — that his fellow-servants, whom he had 
 introduced on purpose to assist him, had lifted up their own beds ; 
 and that the candles were contrived, by a common trick of gun- 
 powder, to be extinguished at a certain time. 
 
 The dog who began the farce was, as Joe swore, no dog at all, 
 but truly a bitch, who had shortly before whelped in that room,- and 
 made all this disturbance in seeking for her puppies ; and which, 
 when she had served his purpose, he (Joe Sharp, or Collins,) let 
 out, and then looked for. The story of the hoof and sword he him- 
 self bore witness to, and was never suspected as to the truth of 
 them, though mere fictions. By the trapdoor his friends let down 
 stones, fagots, glass, water, &c., which they either left there, or drew 
 up again, as best suited his purpose ; and by this way let them- 
 selves in and out, without opening the doors, or going through the 
 keyholes ; and all the noises described, he declares he made by 
 placing quantities of white gunpowder over pieces of burning char- 
 
WOODSTOCK. II 
 
 coal, on plates of tin, which, as they melted, exploded with a 
 violent noise. 
 
 I am very happy in having an opportunity of setting history right 
 about these remarkable events, and would not have the reader dis- 
 believe my author's account of them, from his naming either white 
 gunpowder exploding when melted, or his making the earth about 
 the pot take fire of its own accord ; since, however improbable 
 these accounts may appear to some readers, and whatever secrets 
 they might be in Joe's time, they are now well known in chemistry. 
 As to the last, there needs only to mix an equal quantity of iron 
 filings, finely powdered, and powder of pure brimstone, and make 
 them into a paste with fair water. This paste, when it hath lain 
 together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take fire, and burn all 
 the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell. For the others, 
 what he calls white gunpowder, is plainly the thundering powder 
 called by our chemists fulvis fulminans. It is composed of three 
 parts of saltpetre, two parts of pearl ashes or salt of tartar, and one 
 part of flower of brimstone, mixed together and beat to a fine 
 powder ; a small quantity of this held on the point of a knife over a 
 candle, will not go off till it melt, and then it gives a report like that 
 of a pistol ; and this he might easily dispose of in larger quantities, 
 so as to make it explode of itself, while he, the said Joe, was with 
 his masters. 
 
 Such is the explanation of the ghostly adventures of Woodstock, 
 as transferred by Mr. Hone from the pages of the old tract, termed 
 the Authentic Memoirs of the memorable Joseph Collins of Oxford, 
 whose courage and loyalty were the only wizards which conjured 
 up those strange and surprising apparitions and works of spirits, 
 which passed as so unquestionable in the eyes of the Parliamentary 
 Commissioners, of Dr. Plot, and other authors of credit. The 
 ^ulvis fulminans, the secret principle he made use of, is now 
 known to every apothecary's apprentice. 
 
 If my memory be not treacherous, the actor of these wonders 
 made use of his skill in fire-works upon the following remarkable 
 occasion. The Commissioners had not, in their zeal for the public 
 service, overlooked their own private interests, and a deed was 
 drawn up upon parchment, recording the share and nature of the 
 advantages which they privately agreed to concede to each other ; 
 at the same time they were, it seems, loath to intrust to any one of 
 their number the keeping of a document in which all were equally 
 concerned. 
 
 They hid the written agreement within a flower-pot, in which a 
 shrub concealed it from the eyes of any chance spectator. But the 
 rumour of the apparitions having gone abroad, curiosity drew many 
 of the neighbours to Woodstock, and some in particular, to whom 
 
12 INTRODUCTION TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the knowledge of this agreement would have afforded matter of 
 scandal. As the Commissioners received these guests in the 
 saloon where the flower-pot was placed, a match was suddenly set 
 to some fireworks placed there by Sharp the secretary. The flower- 
 pot burst to pieces with the concussion, or was- prepared so as to 
 explode of itself, and the contract of the Commissioners, bearing 
 testimony to their private roguery, was thrown into the midst of the 
 visitors assembled. If I have recollected this incident accurately, 
 for it is more than forty years since I perused the tract, it is probable, 
 that in omitting it from the novel, I may also have passed over, 
 from want of memory, other matters which might have made an 
 essential addition to the story. Nothing, indeed, is more certain, 
 than that incidents which are real, preserve an infinite advantage 
 in works of this nature over such as are fictitious. The tree, how- 
 ever, must remain where it has fallen. 
 
 Having occasion to be in London in October, 1831, 1 made some 
 researches in the British Museum, and in that rich collection, with 
 the kind assistance of the Keepers, who manage it with so much 
 credit to themselves and advantage to the public, I recovered two 
 original pamphlets, which contain a full account of the phenomena 
 at Woodstock in 1649.* The first is a satirical poem, published in 
 that year, which plainly shows that the legend was current among 
 the people in the very shape in which it was afterwards made 
 public. I have not found the explanation of Joe Collins, which, as 
 mentioned by Mr. Hone, resolves the whole into confederacy. It 
 might, however, be recovered by a stricter search than I had leisure 
 for. In the meantime, it may be observed, that neither the name 
 of Joe Collins, nor Sharp, occurs among the dramatis persona 
 given in these tracts, fpublished when he might have been en- 
 dangered by anything which directed suspicion towards him, at 
 least in 1649, and perhaps might have exposed him to danger even 
 in 1660, from the malice of a powerful though defeated faction. 
 
 \st August, 1832. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 No. I. 
 THE WOODSTOCK SCUFFLE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 MOST DREADFUL APPARITIONS THAT WERE LATELY SEENE IN 
 THE MANNOR-HOUSE OF WOODSTOCK, NEERE OXFORD, TO 
 THE GREAT TERROR AND WONDERFUL AMAZEMENT OF ALL 
 THERE THAT DID BEHOLD THEM. 
 
 [Printed in the year 1649. 4to.] 
 
 It were a wonder if one unites, 
 And not of wonders and strange sights ; 
 For eVry where such things affrights 
 Poore people, 
 
 That men are ev'n at their wits' end ; 
 God judgments ev'ry where doth send, 
 And yet we don't our hves amend. 
 But tipple, 
 
 And sweare, and lie, and cheat, and , 
 
 Because the world shall drown no more, 
 As if no judgments were in store 
 But water ; 
 
 But by the stories which I tell, 
 You'll heare of terrors come from hell, , 
 And fires, and shapes most terriblf^ 
 For matter. 
 
 It is not long since that a child 
 Spake from the ground in a large field, 
 And made the people almost wild 
 That heard it, 
 
 Of which there is a printed book, 
 Wherein each man the truth may look ; 
 If children speak, the matter's took 
 For verdict. 
 
14 APPENDIX TO 
 
 But this is stranger than that voice, 
 The wonder's greater, and the noyse ; 
 And things appeare to men, not boyes, 
 At Woodstock ; 
 
 Where Rosamond had once a bower. 
 To keep her from Queen Elinour, 
 And had escap'd her poys'nous power 
 By good-luck. 
 
 But fate had otherwise decneed, 
 And Woodstock Mannor saw a deed, 
 Which is in Hollinshed or Speed 
 Chro-nicled ; 
 
 But neither Hollinshed nor Stow, 
 Nor no historians such things show, 
 Though in them wonders we well know 
 Are pickled ; 
 
 For nothing else is history 
 But pickle of antiquity, 
 Where things are kept in memory 
 From stincking, 
 
 Which otherwaies would have lain dead. 
 As in oblivion buried. 
 Which now you may call into head 
 With thinking. 
 
 The dreadful story, which is true. 
 And now committed unto view, 
 By better pen, had it its due, 
 
 Should see light 
 
 But I, contented, doe indite, 
 Not things of wit, but things of right ; 
 You can't expect that things that fright 
 Should delight. 
 
 O hearken, therefore, harke and shake .'" 
 My very pen and hand doth quake I 
 While I the true relation make 
 
 O' th' wonder. 
 
 Which hath long time, and still appeares 
 Unto the State's Commissioners, 
 And puts them in their beds to feares 
 From under. 
 
INTRODUCTION. ij 
 
 They come, good men, imploi'd by th' State, 
 To sell the lands of Charles the late, 
 And there they lay, and long did waite 
 For chapmen. 
 
 You may have easy pen'worths, woods, 
 Lands, ven'son, householdstuf, and goods ; 
 They little thought of dogs that wou'd 
 There snap-men. 
 
 But when they'd sup'd, and fully fed, 
 They set up remnants and to bed. 
 Where scarce they had laid down a head 
 To slumber, 
 
 But that their beds were heav'd on high ; 
 They thought some dog under did lie. 
 And meant i' th' chamber (fie, fie, fie,) 
 To scumber. 
 
 Some thought the cunning cur did mean 
 To eat their mutton (which was lean) 
 Reserv'd for breakfast, for the men 
 Were thrifty ; 
 
 And up one rises in his shirt, 
 Intending the slie cur to hurt. 
 And forty thrusts made at him for't, 
 Or fifty. 
 
 But empty came his sword again, 
 He found hee thrust but all in vain ; 
 The mutton safe, hee went amain 
 To's fellow. 
 
 And now (assured all was well) 
 The bed again began to swell, 
 The men were frighted, and did smell 
 O' th' yellow. 
 
 From heaving, now the cloaths it pluckt ; 
 The men, for feare, together stuck, 
 And in their sweat each other duck't. 
 They wished 
 
 A thousand times that it were day 
 'Tis sure the divell ! Let us pray. 
 They pray'd amain ; and, as they say, 
 * * * 
 
ifr APPENDIX TO 
 
 Approach of day did cleere the doubt, 
 For all devotions were run out, 
 They now waxt strong and something stout ; 
 One peaked 
 
 Under the bed, but nought was there ; 
 He view'd the chamber ev'ry where, 
 Nothing apear'd but what, for feare. 
 They leaked. 
 
 Their stomachs then return'd apace, 
 They found the mutton in the place, 
 And fell unto it with a grace. 
 
 They laughed 
 
 Each at the other's pannick feare. 
 
 And each his bed-fellow did jeere, 
 
 And having sent for ale and beere, 
 
 They quaffed. 
 
 And then abroad the summons went, 
 Who'll buy king's-land o' th' Parliament .' 
 A paper-book contein'd the rent, 
 
 - Which lay there ; 
 
 That did contain the several! farmes, 
 Quit-rents, knight services, and armes ; 
 But that they came not in by swarmes 
 To pay there. 
 
 Night doth invite to bed again. 
 The grand Commissioners were lain, 
 But then the thing did heave amain. 
 It busied, 
 
 And with great clamor fill'd their eares. 
 The noyse was doubled, and their feares j 
 Nothing was standing but their haires. 
 They nuzled. 
 
 Oft were the blankets pul'd, the sheete 
 Was closely twin'd betwixt their feete, 
 It seems the spirit was discreete 
 And civill, 
 
 Which makes the poore Commissioners 
 Feare they shall get but small arreares, 
 And that there's yet for cavaliers 
 One divell. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 They cast about what best to doe ; 
 Next day they would to wise men goe, 
 To neighb'ring towns som cours to know ; 
 For schoUars 
 
 Come not to Woodstock, as before, 
 And Allen's dead as a nayle-doore. 
 And so's old John (eclep'd the poore) 
 His follower ; 
 
 Rake Oxford o're, there's not a man 
 That rayse or lay a spirit can, 
 Or use the circle, or the wand, 
 Or conjure ; 
 
 Or can say (Boh !) unto a divell, 
 Or to a goose that is uncivill, 
 Nor where Keimbolton purg'd out evill, 
 'Tis sin sure. 
 
 There were two villages hard by. 
 With teachers of presbytery, 
 Who knew the house was hidiously 
 Be-pestred ; 
 
 But 'lasse ! their new divinity 
 Is not so deep, or not so high , 
 Their witts doe (as their meanes did) lie 
 Sequestred ; 
 
 But Master Joffman was the wight 
 Which was to exorcise the spright ; 
 Hee'll preach and pray you day and night 
 At pleasure. 
 
 And by that painfull gainfuU trade, 
 He hath himselfe full wealthy made ; 
 Great store of guilt he hath, 'tis said, 
 And treasure. 
 
 But no intreaty of his friends 
 Could get him to the house of fiends, 
 He came not over for such ends 
 
 From Dutch-land ; 
 
 But worse divinity hee brought, 
 And hath us reformation taught, 
 And, with our money, he hath bought 
 Him much land. 
 
18 APPENDIX TO 
 
 Had the old parsons preached still, 
 The div'l should nev'r have had his wil ; 
 But those that had or art or skill 
 Are outed ; 
 
 And those to whom the pow'r was giv'n 
 Of driving spirits, are out-driv'n ; 
 Their colledges dispos'd, and livings, 
 To grout-heads. 
 
 There was a justice who did boast, 
 Hee had as great a gift almost, 
 Who did desire him to accost 
 This evill ; 
 
 But hee would not employ his gifts, 
 But found out many sleights and shifts ; 
 Hee had no prayers, nor no snifts. 
 For th' divell. 
 
 Some othej: way they cast about. 
 These brought him in, they throw not out ; 
 A woman, great with child, will do't ; 
 They got one. 
 
 And she i' th' room that night must lie ; 
 But when the thing about did flie, 
 And broke the windows furiously, 
 And hot one 
 
 Of the contractors o're the head, 
 Who lay securely in his bed, 
 The woman, shee-affrighted, fled 
 
 And now they lay the cause on her, 
 That e're that night the thing did stir, 
 Because her selfe and grandfather 
 Were Papists ; 
 
 They must be barnes-regenerate, 
 (A Hans en Kelder of the state. 
 Which was in reformation gatt,) 
 
 They said, which 
 
 Doth make the divell stand in awe, 
 Pull in his homes, his hoof, his claw ; 
 But having none, they did in draw 
 
 * * * 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 But in the night tliere was sucli worke, 
 The spirit swaggered lilce a Turke ; 
 The bitclr had ''d where it did lurke, 
 And howled 
 
 In such a wofull manner, that 
 Their very hearts went pit a pat 
 
 ***** 
 
 The stately rooms, where kings once lay j 
 But the contractors shev/'d the way. 
 But mark what now I tell you, pray, 
 'Tis worth it. 
 
 That book I told you of before, 
 Wherein were tenants written store, 
 A register for many more 
 
 Not forth yet ; 
 
 That very book, as it did lie, 
 Took of a flame, no mortall eye 
 Seeing one jot of fire thereby, 
 Or taper ; 
 
 For all the candles about flew, 
 And those that burned, burned blew, 
 Never kept soldiers such a doe 
 Or vaper. 
 
 The book thus burnt and none knew how, 
 The poore contractors made a vow 
 To worke no more ; this spoil'd their plow 
 In that place. 
 
 Some other part o' th' house they'll find 
 To which the devill hath no mind, 
 But hee, it seems, is not incHn'd 
 
 With that grace ; 
 
 But other prancks it play'd elsewhere. 
 An oake there was stood many a yeere, 
 Of goodly growth as any where. 
 
 Was hewn down. 
 
 Which into fewell-wood was cut, 
 And some into a wood-pile put, ' 
 But it was hurled all about 
 
 And thrown down. 
 
 C 3 
 
APPENDIX TO 
 
 In sundry formes it doth appeare; 
 Now like a grasping claw to teare ; 
 Now like a dog, anon a beare, 
 It tumbles ; 
 
 And all the windows battered are, 
 No man the quarter enter dare ; 
 All men (except the glasier) 
 
 Doe grumble. 
 
 Once in the likenesse of a woman, 
 Of stature much above the common, 
 'Twas seene, but spak a word to no man, 
 And vanish'd. 
 
 'Tis thought the ghost of some good wife 
 Whose husband was depriv'd of life, 
 Her children cheated, land in strife 
 She banist. 
 
 No man can tell the cause of these 
 So wondrous dreadfull outrages ; 
 Yet if upon your sinne you please 
 To discant, 
 
 You'le find our actions out doe hell's ; 
 O wring your hands and cease the bells, 
 Repentance must, or nothing else 
 Appease can't. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 THE 
 
 JUST DEVIL OF WOODSTOCK; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A TRUE NARRATIVE OF THE SEVERAL APPARITIONS, THE FRIGHTS 
 AND PUNISHMENTS, INFLICTED UPON THE RUMPISH COMMIS- 
 SIONERS SENT THITHER TO SURVEY THE MANNORS AND HOUSES 
 BELONGING TO HIS MAJESTIE. 
 
 [London, printed in the year 1660. 4to.] 
 
 The Names of the persons in the ensuing Narrative mentioned, 
 •with others. 
 
 Captain Cockaine. Captain Roe. 
 
 Captain Hart. Mr. Crook, the Lawyer. 
 
 Captain Crook. Mr. Browne, the Surveyor. 
 
 Captain Carelesse. 
 Their three Servants. 
 Thir Ordinary-keeper, and others. 
 The Gate-keeper, with the Wife and Servants. 
 Besides many more, who each night heard the noise ; as Sir Gerrard 
 Fleetwood and his lady, with his family, Mr. Hyans, with his 
 family, and several others, who lodged in the outer courts ; and 
 during the three last nights, the inhabitants of Woodstock town, 
 and other neighbor villages. 
 
 And there were many more, both divines and others, who came 
 out of the country, and from Oxford, to see the glass and stones, 
 and other stuffe, the devil had brought, wherewith to beat out the 
 Commissioners ; the marks upon some walls remain, and many, 
 this to testifie. 
 
 THE PREFACE TO THE ENSUING NARRATIVE. 
 
 Since it hath pleased the Almighty God, out of his infinite mercy, 
 so to make us happy, by restoring of our native King to us, and us 
 unto our native liberty through him, that now the good may say, 
 magna temporum felicitaj nbi sentire qua velis, et dicer e licet guce 
 sentias, we cannot but esteem ourselves engaged, in the highest of 
 degrees, to render unto him the highest thanks we can express, 
 
22 APPENDIX TO 
 
 although, surpris'd with joy, we become as lost in the performance ; 
 when gladness and admiration strikes us silent, as we look back 
 upon the precipiece of our late condition, and those miraculous de- 
 liverances beyond expression ; freed from the. slavery, and those 
 desperate perils, we dayly lived in fear of, during the tyrannical 
 times of that detestable usurper, Oliver Cromwell ; he who had 
 raked up such judges, as would wrest the most innocent language 
 into high treason, when he had the cruel conscience to take away 
 our lives, upon no other ground of justice or reason, (the stones of 
 London strefets would rise to witness it, if all the citizens were 
 silent.) And with these judges had such councillors, as could 
 advise him unto worse, which will less want of witness. For should 
 the many auditors be silent, the press (as God would have it) hath 
 given it us in print, where one of them (and his conscience-keeper, 
 too,) speaks out. What shall 'we do with these men? saith he: 
 jEger intemperans crudelem facii medimm, et immedicabile ■vulnus 
 ense recidendttm. Who these men are that should be brought to 
 such Scicilian vespers, the former page sets forth — those which 
 conceit Vtopias, and have their day-dreams of the return of, I know 
 not what golden age, with the old line. What usage, when such a 
 privy councillor had power, could he expect, who then had pub- 
 lished this narrative ? This much so plainly shows the devil him- 
 self dislikit their doings, (so much more bad were they than he 
 would have them be,) severer sure then was the devil to their 
 Commissioners at Woodstock ; for he warned them, with dreadful 
 noises, to drive them from their work. This councillor, without 
 more ado, would have all who retain'd conceits of allegiance to 
 their soveraign, to be absolutely cut off by the usurper's sword. A 
 sad sentence for a loyal party, to a lawful king. But Heaven is 
 always just ; the party is repriv'd, and do acknowledge the hand of 
 God in it, as is rightly applyed, and as justly sensible of their de- 
 liverance : in that the foundation which the councillor saith was 
 already so well laid, is now turned up, and what he calls day-dreams 
 are come to passe. That old line which (as with him) there seemed 
 aliquid divini to the contrary, is now restored. And that rock 
 which, as he saith, the prelates and all their adherents, nay, and 
 their master and supporter, too, with all his posterity, have split 
 themselves upon, is nowhere to be heard. And that posterity are 
 safely arrived in their ports, and masters of that mighty navy, their 
 enemies so much encreased to keep them out with. The eldest 
 sits upon the throne, his place by birthright and descent, 
 
 " Pacatumque regit Patfiis virtutibus orbem ;" 
 upon which throne long may he sit, and reign in peace, that by his 
 
INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 just government, the enemies of ours, the true Protestant Church, 
 of that glorious martyr, our late sovereign, and of his royal posterity 
 may be either absolutely converted, or utterly confounded. 
 
 If any shall ngw ask thee why this narrative was not sooner 
 published, as neerer to the times wherein the things were acted, he 
 hath the reason for it in the former lines ; which will the more 
 clearly appear unto his apprehension, if he shall perpend how much 
 cruelty is requisite to the maintenance of rebellion ; and how great 
 care is necessary in the supporters, to obviate and divert the 
 smallest things that tend to the unblinding of the people ; so that 
 it needs will follow, that they must have accounted this amongst 
 the great obstructions to their sales of his majestie's lands, the 
 devil not joining with them in the security ; and greater to the 
 pulling down the royal pallaces, when their chapmen should conceit 
 the devil would haunt them in their houses, for .building with so ill 
 got materials ; as no doubt but that he hath, so numerous and 
 confident are the relations made of the same, though scarce any so 
 totally remarkeable as this, (if it be not that others have been more 
 concealed,) in regard of the strange circumstances as long con- 
 tinuances, but especially the number of the persons together, to 
 whom all things were so visibly both seen and done, so that surely 
 it exceeds any other ; for the devils thus manifesting themselves, it 
 appears evidently that there arij such things as devils, to persecute 
 the wicked in this world as in the next. 
 
 Now, if to these were added the diverse reall phantasms seen at 
 White-Hall in Cromwell's times, which caused him to keep such 
 mighty guards in and about his bedchamber, and yet so oft to 
 change his lodgings ; if those things done at Saint James', where 
 the devil so joal'd the ceritinels against the sides of the queen's 
 chappell doors, that some of them fell sick upon it, and others, not 
 taking warning by it, kild one outright, whom they buried in the 
 place, and all other such dreadful things, those that inhabited the 
 royal houses have been affrighted with ; and if to these were like- 
 wise added, a relation of all those regicides and their abettors the 
 devil hath entred into, as he did the Gadarenes' swine, with so 
 many more of them who hath fallen mad, and dyed in hideous 
 forms of such distractions, — that which hath been of this within 
 these 12 last years in England, (should all of this nature our 
 chronicles do tell, with all the superstitious monks have writ, be 
 put together,) would make the greater volume, and of more strange 
 occurrents. 
 
 And now as to the penman of this narrative, know that he was a 
 divine, and at the time of those things acted, which are here related, 
 the minister and schoolmaster of Woodstock ; a person learned 
 and discreet, not byassed with factious humours, his name Widows, 
 
24 APPENDIX TO 
 
 who each day put in writing what he heard from their mouthes, 
 (and such things as they told to have befallen them the night 
 before,) therein keeping to their own words ; and, never thinking 
 that what he had writ should happen to be made publick, gave it 
 no better dress to set it forth. And because to do it now shall not 
 be construed to change the story, the reader hath it here accord- 
 ingly exposed. 
 
 THE JUST DEVIL OF WOODSTOCK. 
 
 The 1 6th day of October, in the year of our Lord, 1649, the com- 
 missioners for surveying and valuing his majestie's raannor house, 
 parks, woods, deer, demesnes, and all things thereunto belonging, 
 by name Captain Crook, Captain Hart, Captain Cockaine, Captain 
 Carelesse, and Captain Roe, their messenger, with Mr. Browne, 
 their secretary, and two or three servants, went from Woodstock 
 town, (where they had lain some nights before,) and took up their 
 lodgings in his majestie's house after this manner : — The bed- 
 chamber and withdrawing-room they both lodged in and made their 
 kitchen ; the presence-chamber their room for dispatch of their 
 business with all comers ; of the council-hall their brew-house, as 
 of the dining-room their wood-house, where they laid in the clefts 
 of that antient standard in the High-Park, for many ages beyond 
 memory known by the name of the King's Oak, which they had 
 chosen out, and caused to be dug up by the roots. 
 
 October lyth. About the middle of the night, these new guests 
 were first awaked by a knocking at the presence-chamber door^ 
 which they also conceived did open, and something to enter, which 
 came through the room, and also walkt about that room with a 
 heavy step during half an hour, then crept under the bed where 
 Captain Hart and Captain Carelesse lay, where it did seem (as it 
 were) to bite and gnaw the mat and bed-coards, as if it would tear 
 and rend the feather beds ; which having done a while, then would 
 heave a while, and rest ; then heave them up again in the bed 
 more high than it did before, sometime on the one side, sometime 
 on the othex", as if it had tried which captain was heaviest. Thus 
 having heaved some half an hour, from thence it walkt out and 
 went under the servants' bed, and did the like to them ; hence it 
 walkt into a withdrawing-room, and there did the same to all who 
 lodged there. Thus, having welcomed them for more than two 
 hours' space, it walkt out as it came in, and shut the outer door 
 again, but with a clap of some mightie force. These guests were 
 in a sweat all this while, but out of it falling into a sleep again, it 
 became morning first before they spake their minds ; then would 
 they have it to be a dog, yet they described it more to the likeness 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 of a great bear ; so fell to the examining under the beds, where, 
 finding only the mats scracht, but the bed-coards whole, and the 
 quarter of beef which lay on the floor untoucht, they entertained 
 other thoughts. 
 
 October litk. They were all awaked as the night before, and 
 now conceived that they heard all the great clefts of the King's 
 Oak brought into the presence-chamber, and there thumpt down, 
 and after roul about the room ; they could hear their chairs and 
 stools tost from one side of the room unto the other, and then (as 
 it were) altogether josled. Thus having done an hour together, it 
 walkt into the withdrawing-room, where lodged the two captains, 
 the secretary, and two servants : here stopt the thing a while, as if 
 it did take breath, but raised a hideous one, then walkt into the 
 bed-chamber, whei'e lay those as before, and under the bed it went, 
 where it did heave and heave again, that now they in bed were put 
 to catch hold upon the bed-posts, and sometimes one of the other, 
 to prevent their being tumbled out upon the ground ; then coming 
 out as from under the bed, and taking hold upon the bed-posts, it 
 would shake the whole bed, almost as if a cradle rocked. Thus 
 having done here for half an hour, it went into the withdrawing- 
 room, where first it came and stood at the bed's feet, and heaving 
 up the bed's feet, flopt down again a while, until at last it heaved 
 the feet so high that those in bed thought to have been set upon 
 their heads ; and having thus for two hours entertained them, went 
 out as in the night before, but with a great noise. 
 
 October 19M. This night they awaked not until the midst of the 
 night ; they perceived the room to shake with something that walkt 
 about the bed-chamber, which having done so a while, it walkt into 
 a withdrawing-room, where it took up a brasse warming-pan, and 
 returning with it into the bed-chamber, therein made so loud a 
 noise, in these captains' own words, it was as loud and scurvie 
 as a ring of five untuned bells rung backward ; but the captains, 
 not to seem afraid, next day made mirth of what had passed, and 
 jested at the devil in the pan. 
 
 October 20th. These captains and their company, still lodging 
 as before, were awakened in this night, with some things flying 
 about the rooms, and out of one room into the other, as thrown 
 with some great force. Captain Hart, being in a slumber, was 
 taken by the shoulder and shaked until he did sit up in his bed, 
 thinking that it had been one of his fellows, when suddenly he was 
 taken on the pate with a trencher, that it made him shrink down 
 into the bed-clothes, and all of them in both rooms kept their heads 
 at least within their sheets, so fiercely did three dozen of trenchers 
 fly about the rooms ; yet Captain Hart ventured again to peep out 
 to see what was the matter, and what it was that threw, but then 
 
26 APPENDIX TO 
 
 the trenchers came so fast and neer about his ears, that he was fain 
 quickly to couch again. In the morning they found all their 
 trenchers, pots, and spits, upon and about their beds, and all such 
 things as were of common use scattered about the rooms. This 
 night there were also, in several parts of the room and outer rooms, 
 such noises of beating at doors, and on the walls, as if that several 
 smiths had been at work ; and yet our captains shrunk not from 
 their work, but went on in that, and lodged as they had done 
 before. 
 
 October list. About midnight they heard gr-eat knocking at 
 every door ; after a while the doors flew open, and into the with- 
 drawing-room entered something as of a mighty proportion, the 
 figure of it they knew not how tp describe. This walkt awhile 
 about the room shaking the floor at every step, then came it up 
 close to the bedside, where lay Captains Crook and Carelesse ; and 
 after a little pause, as it were, the bed-curtains, both at sides and 
 feet, were drawn up and down slowly, then faster again for a quarter 
 of an hour, then from end to end as fast as imagination can fancie 
 the running of the rings, then shaked it the beds, as if the joints 
 thereof had crackt ; then walkt the thing into the bedchamber, and 
 so plaied with those beds there ; then took up eight peuter dishes, 
 and bouled them about the room and over the servants in the 
 truckle-beds ; then sometimes were the dishes- taken up and thrown 
 crosse the high beds and against the walls, and so much battered ; 
 but there were more dishes wherein was meat in the same room, 
 that were not at all removed. During this, in the presence-chamber 
 there was stranger noise of weightie things thrown down, and, as 
 they supposed, the clefts of the King's Oak did roul about the 
 room, yet at the wonted hour went away, and left them to take rest 
 such as they could. 
 
 October 22d. Hath mist of being set down; the officers, imployed 
 in their work farther off, came not that day to Woodstock. 
 
 October 2'^d. Those that lodged in the withdrawing-room, in 
 the midst of the night were awakened with the cracking of fire, as 
 if it had been with thorns and sparks of fire burning, whereupon 
 they supposed that the bedchamber had taken fire, and listning to 
 it farther, they heard their fellows in bed sadly groan, which gave 
 them to suppose they might be suffocated ; wherefore they called 
 upon their servants to make all possible haste to help them. When 
 the two servants were come in, they found all asleep, and so brought 
 back word, but that there were no bed-clothes upon them ; where- 
 fore they were sent back to cover them, and to stir up and mend 
 •the fire. When the servants had covered them and were come to 
 the chimney, in the corners they found their wearing apparrel, boots, 
 and stockings, but they had no sooner toucht the embers, when the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 firebrands flew about their ears so fast, that away ran they into the 
 other room for the shelter of their cover-hds ; then after them walkt 
 something that stampt about the room as if it had been exceeding 
 angry, and hkewise threw about the trenchers, platters, and all such 
 things in the room — after two hours went out, yet stampt again over 
 their heads. 
 
 October 24.i/i. They lodged all abroad. 
 
 October i^th. This afternoon was come unto them Mr. Richard 
 Crook the lawyer, brother to Captain Crook, and now deputy- 
 steward of the mannor unto Captain Parsons and Major Butler, who 
 had put out Mr. Hyans, his majestie's officer. To entertain this 
 new guest, the Commissioners caused a very great fire to be made, 
 of neer the chimney-full of wood of the King's Oak, and he was 
 lodged in the withdrawing -room with his brother, and his servant 
 in the same room. About the midst of the night a wonderful 
 knocking was heard, and into the room something did rush, which 
 coming to the chimney-side, dasht out the fire as with the stamp of 
 some prodigious foot, then threw down such weighty stuffe, what 
 ere it was, (they took it to be the residue of the clefts and roots of 
 the Kingfs Oak,) close by the bed-side, that the house and bed 
 shook with it. Captain Cockaine and his fellow arose, and took 
 their swords to go unto the Crooks. The noise ceased at their 
 rising, so that they came to the door and called. The two brothers, 
 though fully awaked, and heard them call, were so amazed, that 
 they made no answer until Captain Cockaine had recovered the 
 boldness to call very loud, and came unto the bedside ; then faintly 
 first, after some more, assurance, they came to understand one 
 another, and comforted the lawyer. Whilst this was thus, no noise 
 was heard, which made them think the time was past of that night's 
 trouble, so that, after some little conference, they applied themselves 
 to take some rest. When Captain Cockaine was come to his own 
 bed, which he had left open, he found it closely covered, which he 
 much wondered at ; but turning the clothes down, and opening it 
 to get in, he found the lower sheet strewed over with trenchers. 
 Their whole three dozens of trenchers were orderly disposed between 
 the sheets, which he and his fellow endeavouring to cast out, such 
 noise arose about the room, that they were glad to get into bed with 
 some of the trenchers. The noise lasted a full half hour after this. 
 This entertainment so ill did like the lawyer, and being not so well 
 studied in the point as to resolve this the devil's law case, that he 
 next day resolved to be gone ; but having not dispatcht all that he 
 came for, profit and perswasions prevailed with him to stay the 
 other hearing, so that he lodged as he did the night before. 
 
 October 26th. This night each room was better furnished with 
 fire and candle than before ; yet about twelve at night came some- 
 
2S APPENDIX TO 
 
 thing in that dasht all out, then did walk about the room, making 
 a noise, not to be set forth by the comparison with any other thing; 
 sometimes came it to the bedsides and drew the curtains to and fro, 
 then twerle them, then walk about again, and return to the bed-posts, 
 shake them with all the bed, so that they in bed were put to hold 
 one upon the other, then walk about the room again, and come to 
 the servants' bed, and gnaw and scratch the wainscot head, and 
 shake altogether in that room ; at the time of this being in doing, 
 they in the bedchamber heard such strange dropping down from 
 the roof of the room, that they supposed 'twas like the fall of money 
 by the sound. Captain Cockaine, not frightened with so small a 
 noise, (and lying near the chimney,) stept out, and made shift to 
 light a candle, by the light of which he perceived the room strewed 
 over with broken glass, green, and some of it as it were pieces of 
 broken bottles ; he had not long been considering what it was, 
 when suddenly his candle was hit out, and glass flew about the 
 room, that he made haste to the protection of the coverlets ; the 
 noise of thundering rose more hideous than at any time before ; yet, 
 at a certain time, all vanisht into calmness. The morning after 
 was the glass about the room, which the maid that was to make 
 clean the rooms swept up into a corner, and many came to see it. 
 But Mr. Richard Crook would stay no longer, yet as he stopt, going 
 through Woodstock town, he was there heard to say, that he would 
 not lodge amongst them another night for a fee of 500/. 
 
 October 2'jth. The Commissioners had not yet done their work, 
 wherefore they must stay ; and being all men of the sword, they 
 must not seem afraid to encounter with any thing, though it be the 
 devil ; therefore, with pistols charged, and drawn swords laied by 
 their bedsides, they applied themselves to take some rest, when 
 something in the midst of night, so opened and shut the window 
 casements with such claps, that it awakened all that slept ; some of 
 them peeping out to look what was the matter with the windo\ws, 
 stones flew about the rooms as if hurled with many hands ; some 
 hit the walls, and some the beds' heads close above the pillows, the 
 dints of which were then, and yet (it is conceived) are to be seen, 
 thus sometime throwing stones, and sometime making thundering 
 noise ; for two hours space it ceast, and all was quiet till the morn. 
 After their rising, and the maid come in to make the fire, they 
 looked about the rooms ; they found fourscore stones brought in 
 that night, and going to lay them together in the corner where the 
 glass (before mentioned) had been swept up, they found that every 
 piece of glass had been carried away that night. Many people 
 came next day to see the stones, and all observed that they were 
 not of such kind of stones as are naturall in the countrey thereabout ■ 
 with these were noise like claps ■ of thunder, or report of cannon 
 
INTRODUCTION. 20 
 
 planted against the rooms, heard by all that lodged in the outer 
 courts, to their astonishment, and at Woodstock town, taken to be 
 thunder. 
 
 October liih. This night, both strange and differing noise from 
 the former first awakened Captain Hart, who lodged in the bed- 
 chamber, who, hearing Roe and Brown to groan, called out to 
 Cockaine and Crook to come and help them, for Hart could not 
 now stir himself; Cockaine would faine have answered, but he 
 could not, or look about ; something, he thought, stopt both his 
 breath and held down his eye-lids. Amazed thus, he struggles and 
 kickt about, till he had awaked Captain Crook, who, half asleep, 
 grew very angry at his kicks, and multiplied words, it grew to an 
 appointment in the field ; but this fully recovered Cockaine to re- 
 member that Captain Hart had called for help, wherefore to them 
 he ran in the other room, whom he found sadly groaning, where, 
 scraping in the chimney, he both found a candle and fire to light it ; 
 but had not gone two steps, when something blew the candle out, 
 and threw him in the chair by the bed-side, when presently cried 
 out Captain Carelesse, with a most pittiful voice, " Come hither, O 
 come hither, brother Cockaine, the thing's gone of me." Cockaine, 
 scarce yet himself, helpt to set him up in his bed, and after Captain 
 Hart, and having scarce done that to them, and also to the other 
 two, they heard Captain Crook crying out, as if something had been 
 killing him. Cockaine snatcht up the sword that lay by their bed, 
 and ran into the room to save Crook, but was in much more likely- 
 hood to kill him, for at his coming, the thing that pressed Crook 
 went of him, at which Crook started out of his bed, whom Cockaine 
 thought a spirit, made at him, at which Crook cried out, " Lord 
 help, Lord save me ;" Cockaine let fall his hand, and Crook, em- ' 
 bracing Cockaine, desired his reconcilement, giving him many thanks 
 for his deliverance. Then rose they all and came together, dis- 
 coursed sometimes godly and sometimes praied, for all this while 
 was there such stamping over the roof of the house, as if 1000 horse 
 had there been trotting ; this night all the stones brought in the 
 night before, and laid up in the withdrawing-room, were all carried 
 again away by that which brought them in, which at the wonted 
 time left of, and, as it were, went out, and so away. 
 
 October i<)th. Their businesse having now received so much for- 
 wardnesse as to be neer dispatcht, they encouraged one the other, 
 and resolved to try further j therefore, they provided more lights 
 and fires, and further, for their assistance, prevailed with their 
 ordinary keeper to lodge amongst them, and bring his mastive bitch ; 
 and it was so this night with them, that they had no disturbance 
 at all. 
 
 October y>th. So well they had past the night before, that this 
 
30 APPENDIX TO 
 
 night they went to bed, confident and carelesse ; untill about twelve 
 of the clock, something knockt at the door as with a smith's great 
 hammer, but with such force as if it had cleft the door ; then 
 ent'red something like a bear, but seem'd to swell more big, and 
 walkt about the room, and out of one room into the other, treading 
 so heavily, as the floare had not been strong enough to bear it. 
 When it came into the bedchamber, it dasht against the beds' 
 heads some kind of glass vessell, that broke in sundry pieces, and 
 sometimes would take up those pieces, and hurle them about the 
 room, and into the other room ;' and when it did not hurle the 
 glasse at their heads, it did strike upon the tables, as if many 
 smiths, with their greatest hammers, had been laying on as upon an 
 anvil ; sometimes it thumpt against the walls as if it would beat a 
 hole through ; then upon their heads, such stamping, as if the roof 
 of the house were beating down upon their heads ; and having done 
 thus, during the space (as was conjectured) of two hours, it ceased 
 and vanished, but with a more fierce shutting of the doors than at 
 any time before. In the morning they found the pieces of glass 
 about the room, and observed, that it was much differing from that 
 glasse brought in three nights before, this being of a much thicker 
 substance, which severall persons which came in carried away some 
 pieces of. The Commissioners were in debate of lodging there no 
 more ; but all their businesse was not done, and some of them 
 were so conceited as to believe, and to attribute the rest they en- 
 joyed, the night before this last, unto the mastive bitch ; wherefore, 
 they resolved to get more company, and the mastive bitch, and try 
 another night. 
 
 October ^ist. This night, the fires and lights prepared, the 
 ordinary keeper and his bitch, with another man perswaded by him, 
 they all took their beds and fell asleep. But about twelve at night, 
 such rapping was on all sides of them, that it wakened aU of them; 
 as the doors did seem to open, the mastive bitch fell fearfully a 
 yelling, and presently ran fiercely into the bed to them in the 
 truckle-bed ; as the thing came by the table, it struck so fierce a 
 blow on that, as that it made the frame to crack, then took the 
 warming-pan from off the table, and stroke it against the walls with 
 so much force as that it was beat flat together, lid and bottom. 
 Now were they hit as they lay covered over head and ears within 
 the bed-clothes. Captain Carelesse was taken a sound blow on the 
 head with the shoulder-blade bone of a dead horse, (before they had 
 been but thrown at, when they peept up, and mist ;) Browne had a 
 shrewed blow on the leg with the backbone, and another on the 
 head, and every one of them felt severall blows of bones and stones 
 through the bed-clothes, for now these things were thrown as from 
 an angry hand that meant further mischief ; the stones flew in at 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3t 
 
 window as shot out of a gun, nor was the bursts lesse (as from 
 without) than of a cannon, and all the windows broken down. Now 
 as the hurling of the things did cease, and the thing walkt up and 
 down, Captain Cocltaine and Hart cried out. In the name of the 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, what are you? What would you 
 have ? What have we done that you disturb us thus ? No voice 
 replied, (as the Captains said, yet some of their servants have said 
 otherwise), and the noise ceast. Hereupon Captain Hart and 
 Cockaine rose, who lay in the bedchamber, renewed the fire and 
 lights, and one great candle, in a candlestick, they placed in the 
 door, that might be seen by them in both the rooms. No sooner 
 were they got to bed, but the noise arose on all sides more loud and 
 hidtous than at any time before, insomuch as (to use the Captain's 
 own words) it returned and brought seven devils worse than itself; 
 and presently they saw the candle and candlestick in the passage 
 of the door, dasht up to the roof of the room, by a kick of the hinder 
 parts of a horse, and after with the hoof trode out the snuff, and so 
 dasht out the fire in the chimnies. As this was done, there fell, as 
 from the sieling, upon them in the truckle-beds, such quantities of 
 water, as if it had been poured out of buckets, which stunk worse 
 than any earthly stink could make ; and as this was in doing, some- 
 thing crept under the high beds, tost them up to the roof of the 
 house, with the Commissioners in them, until the testers of the beds 
 were beaten down upon, and the bedsted-frames broke under them ; 
 and here some pause being made, they all, as if with one consent, 
 started up, and ran down the stairs until they came into the Councel 
 Hall, where two sate up a-brewing, but now were fallen asleep ; 
 those they scared much with wakening of them, having been much 
 perplext before with the strange noise, which commonly was taken 
 by them abroad for thunder, sometimes for rumbling wind. Here 
 the Captains and their company got fire and candle, and every one 
 carrying something of either, they returned into the Presence- 
 Chamber, where some applied themselves to make the fire, whilst 
 others fell to prayers, and having got some clothes about them, 
 they spent the residue of the night in singing psalms and prayers ; 
 during which, no noise was in that room, but most hideously round 
 about, as at some distance. 
 
 It should have been told before, how that when Captain Hart 
 first rose this night, (who lay in the bedchamber next the fire,) he 
 found their book of valuations crosse the embers smoaking, which 
 he snatcht up and cast upon the table there, which the night 
 before was left upon the table in the presence amongst their other 
 papers : this book was in the morning found a handful burnt, and 
 had burnt the table where it lay ; Browne the clerk said, he would 
 not for a 100 and a loo/. that it had been burnt a handful further. 
 
32 APPENDIX TO 
 
 This night it happened that there were six cony-stealers, who 
 were come with their nets and ferrets to the cony-burrows by 
 Rosamond's Well ; but with the noise this night from the Mannor- 
 house, they were so terrified, that hke men distracted away they 
 ran, and left their haies all ready pitched, ready up, and the ferrets 
 in the cony-burrows. 
 
 Now the Commissioners, more sensible of their danger, con- 
 sidered more seriously of their safety, and agreed to go and confer 
 with Mr. Hoffman, the minister of Wotton, (a man not of the 
 meanest note for life or learning, by some esteemed more high,) to 
 desire his advice, together with his company and prayers. Mr. 
 Hoffman held it too high a point to resolve on suddenly and by 
 himself, wherefore desired time to consider upon it, which being 
 agreed unto, he forthwith rode to Mr. Jenkinson and Mr. Wheat, 
 the two next Justices of Peace, to try what warrant they could give 
 him for it. They both (as 'tis said from themselves) encouraged 
 him to be assisting to the Commissioners, according to his 
 calling. 
 
 But certain it is, that when they came to fetch him to go with 
 them, Mr. Hoffman answered, that he would not lodge there one 
 night for joo/., and being asked to pray with them, he held up his 
 hands and said, that he would not meddle upon any terms. 
 
 Mr. Hoffman refusing to undertake the quarrel, the Commis- 
 sioners held it not safe to lodge where they had been thus enter- 
 tained any longer, but caused all things to be removed into the 
 chambers over the gatehouse, where they staid but one night, and 
 what rest they enjoyed there, we have but an uncertain relation of, 
 for they went away early the next morning ; but if it may be held 
 fit to set down what hath been delivered by the report of others, 
 they were also the same night much affrighted with dreadful ap- 
 paritions, but observing that these passages spread much in dis- 
 course, to be also in particulars taken notice of, and that the nature 
 of it made not for their cause, they agreed to the concealing of 
 things for the future ; yet this is well-known and certain, that the 
 gate-keeper's wife was in so strange an agony in her bed, and in 
 her bedchamber such noise, (whilst her husband was above with 
 the Commissioners,) that two maids in the next room to her, durst 
 not venture to assist her, but affrighted ran out to call company, 
 and their master, and found the woman (at their coming in) gasp- 
 ing for breath : and the next day said, that she saw and suffered 
 that, which for all the world she would not be hired to again. 
 
 From Woodstock the Commissioners removed unto Euelme.'and 
 some of them returned to Woodstock the Sunday se'nnight after, 
 (the book of Valuations wanting something that was for haste left 
 imperfect,) but lodged not in any of those rooms where they had 
 
INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 lain before, and yet were not unvisited (as they confess them- 
 selves) by the devil, whom they called their nightly guest ; Captaiii 
 Crook came not untill Tuesday night, and how he sped that night 
 the gate-keeper's wife can tell if she dareth, but what she hath 
 whispered to her gossips, shall not be made a part of this our narra- 
 tive, nor many more particulars which have fallen from the Coni- 
 missioners themselves and their servants to other persons ; they 
 are all or most of them alive, and may add to it when they please, 
 and surely have not a better way to be revenged of him who troubled 
 them, than according to the proverb, tell truth and shame the 
 devil. ; 
 
 There remains this observation to be added, that on a Wednesday 
 morning all these officers went away ; and that since then diverse 
 persons of several! qualities, have lodged often and sometimes long 
 in the same rooms, both in the presence, withdrawing-room, and 
 bedchamber belonging unto his sacred Majesty ; yet none have 
 had the least disturbance, or heard the smallest noise, for which the 
 cause was not as ordinary as apparent, except the Commissioners 
 and their company, who came in order to the alienating and pulling 
 down the house, which is wellnigh performed. 
 
 A SHORT SURVEY OF WOODSTOCK, NOT TAKEN BY ANY OF THE 
 BEFORE-MENTIONED COMMISSIONERS.* 
 
 The noble seat, called Woodstock, is one of the ancient honours 
 belonging to the crown. Severall mannors owe suite and service 
 to the place ; but the custom of the countrey giving it but the title 
 of a mannor, we shall erre with them to be the better understood. 
 
 The mannor-house hath been a large fabrick, and accounted 
 amongst his majestie's standing houses, because there was alwaies 
 kept a standing furniture. This great house was built by King 
 Henry the First, but ampleyfied with the gate-house and outsides 
 of the outer-court, by King Henry the Seventh, the stables by King 
 James. 
 
 About a bow-shoot from the gate south-west, remain foundation 
 signs of that structure, erected by King Henry the Second, for the 
 security of Lady Rosamond, daughter of Walter Lord Clifford, 
 which some poets have compared to the Dedalian labyrinth, but 
 the form and circuit both of the place and ruins shew it to have 
 been a house and of one pile, perhaps of strength, according to the 
 fashion of those times, and probably was fitted with secret places 
 of recess, and avenues to hide or convey away such persons as 
 were not willing to be found if narrowly sought after. About the 
 midst of the place ariseth a spring, called at present Rosamond's 
 Well ; it is. but shallow, and shows to have been paved and walled 
 
 D 
 
34 APPENDIX TO INTRODUCTION. 
 
 about, likely contrived for the use of them within the house, when 
 it should be of danger to go out. 
 
 A quarter of a mile distant from the King's house, is seated 
 Woodstock town, new and old. This new Woodstock did arise by 
 some buildings which Henry the Second gave leave to be erected, 
 (as received by tradition,) at the suite of the Lady Rosamond, for 
 the use of out-servants upon the wastes of the mannor of Bladon, 
 where is the mother church ; this is a hamlet belonging to 
 it, though encreased to a market town by the advantage of the 
 Court residing sometime near, which of late years they have been 
 sensible of the want of ; this town was made a corporation in the 
 I ith year of Henry the Sixth, by charter, with power to send two 
 burgesses to parliament or not, as they will themselves. 
 
 Old Woodstock is seated on the west side of the brook, named 
 Glyme, which also runneth through the park ; the town consists not 
 of above four or five houses, but it is to be conceived that it hath 
 been much larger, (but very anciently so,) for in some old law his- 
 torians there is mention of the assize at Woodstock, for a law made 
 in a Micelgemote (the name of parliaments before the coming of 
 the Norman) in the days of King Ethelred. 
 
 And in like manner, that thereabout was a king's house, if not in 
 the same place where Henry the First built the late standing pile 
 before his ; for in such days those great councils were commonly 
 held in the King's palaces. Some of those lands have belonged to 
 the orders of the Knights Templers, there being records which call 
 them, Terras quas Rex excambiavit cum Templariis. 
 
 But now this late large mannor-house is in a manner almost 
 turned into heaps of rubbish ; some seven or eight rooms left for 
 the accommodation of a tenant that should rent the King's 
 meadows, (of those who had no power to let them,) with several 
 high uncovered walls standing, the prodigious spectacles of malice 
 unto monarchy, which ruines still bear semblance of their state, and 
 yet aspire, in spight of envy or of weather, to shew. What kings do 
 build, subjects may sometimes shake, but utterly can never over- 
 throw. 
 
 That part of the park called the High-park, hath been lately sub- 
 divided by Sir Arthur Haselrig, to make pastures for his breedof 
 colts, and other parts plowed up. Of the whole saith Roffus War- 
 wicensis, in MS. Hen. I. p. 122, Fecit iste Rex Parcum de Wood- 
 stock, cum Palatio infra pmdictum Parcum, qui Parous erat 
 primus Parens Anglice, et continet in circuitu septem Miliaria; 
 constructus erat Anno 14 hujus Regis, aut parum post. Without 
 the Park the King's demesne woods were, it cannot well be said now 
 are, the timber being all sold off, and underwoods so cropt and 
 spoiled by that beast the Lord Munson, and other greedy cattle, that 
 
PREFACE, 3S 
 
 they are hardly recoverable. Beyond which lieth Stonefield, and 
 other manners that hold of Woodstock, with other woods, that have 
 been aliened by former kings, but with reservation of liberty for his 
 majestie's deer, and other beasts of forrest, to harbour in at pleasure, 
 as in due place is to be shewed. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT is not my purpose to inform my readers how the manuscripts 
 of that eminent antiquary, the Rev. J. A. Rochecliffe, D.D., 
 came into my possession. There are many ways in which such 
 things happen, and it is enough to say they were rescued from an 
 unworthy fate, and that they were honestly come by. As for the 
 authenticity of the anecdotes which I have gleaned from the writings 
 of this excellent person, and put together with my own unrivalled 
 facility, the name of Doctor RocheclifFe will warrant accuracy, 
 wherever that name happens to be known. 
 
 With his history the reading part of the world are well acquainted ; 
 and we might refer the tyro to honest Anthony a Wood, who looked 
 up to him as one of the pillars of High Church, and bestows on him 
 an exemplary character in the Athena Oxonienses, although the 
 Doctor was educated at Cambridge, England's other eye. 
 
 It is well known that Doctor Rochecliffe early obtained prefer- 
 ment in the Church, on account of the spirited share which he took 
 in the controversy with the Puritans ; and that his work, entitled 
 Malleus Hceresis,-was considered as a knock-down blow by all 
 except those who received it. It was that work which made him, 
 at the early age of thirty, Rector of Woodstock, and which after- 
 wards secured him a place in the Catalogue of the celebrated Cen- 
 tury White ; — and, worse than being shown up by that fanatic, 
 among the catalogues of scandalous and malignant priests admitted 
 into benefices by the prelates, his opinions occasioned the loss of 
 his living of Woodstock by the ascendency of Presbytery. He was 
 chaplain, during most part of the Civil War, to Sir Henry Lee's 
 regiment, levied for the service of King Charles ; and it was said 
 he engaged more than once personally in the field. At least it is 
 certain that Doctor Rochecliffe was repeatedly in great danger, as 
 will appear from more passages than one in the following history, 
 which speaks of his own exploits, like Caesar, in the third person. 
 I suspect, however, some Presbyterian commentator has been 
 guilty of interpolating two or three passages. The manuscript was 
 long in possession of the Everards, a distinguished family of that 
 persuasion.* 
 
 D 2 
 
35 PREFACE. 
 
 During the Usurpation, Doctor Rochecliffe was constantly en- 
 gaged in one or other of the premature attempts at a restoration of 
 monarchy ; and was accounted, for his audacity, presence of mind, 
 and depth of judgment, one of the greatest undertakers for the King 
 in that busy time ; with this trifling drawback, that the plots in 
 which he busied himself were almost constantly detected. Nay, it 
 was suspected that Cromwell himself sometimes contrived to suggest 
 to him the intrigues in which he engaged, by which means the wily 
 Protector made experiments on the fidelity of doubtful friends, and 
 became well acquainted with the plots of declared enemies, which 
 he thought it more easy to disconcert and disappoint than to punish 
 severely. 
 
 Upon the Restoration, Doctor Rochecliffe' regained his living of 
 Woodstock, with other church preferment, and gave up polemics 
 and political intrigues for philosophy. He was one of the con- 
 stituent members of the Royal Society, and was the person through 
 whom Charles required of that learned body solution of their curious 
 problem, " Why, if a vessel is filled brimful of water, and a large 
 live fish plunged into the water, nevertheless it shall not overflow 
 the pitcher ?" Doctor Rochecliffe's exposition of this phenomenon 
 was the most ingenious and instructive of four that were given in ; 
 and it is certain the Doctor must have gained the honour of the 
 day, but for the obstinacy of a plain, dull, country gentleman, who 
 insisted that the experiment should be, in the first place, publicly 
 tried. When this was done, the event showed it would have been 
 rather rash to have adopted the facts exclusively on the royal 
 authority ; as the fish, however curiously inserted into his native 
 element, splashed the water over the hall, and destroyed the credit 
 of four ingenious essayists, besides a large Turkey carpet. 
 
 Doctor Rochecliffe, it would seem, died about 1685, leaving 
 many papers behind him of various kinds, and, above all, many 
 valuable anecdotes of secret history, from which the following 
 Memoirs have been extracted, on which we intend to say only a 
 few words by way of illustration. 
 
 The existence of Rosamond's Labyrinth, mentioned in these 
 pages, is attested by Drayton in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
 
 '_' Rosamond's Labyrinth, whose ruins, together with her Well, 
 being paved with square stones in the bottom, and also her Tower, 
 from which the Labyrinth did run, are yet remaining, being vaults 
 arched and walled with stone and brick, almost inextricably wound 
 within one another, by which, if at any time her lodging were laid 
 about by the Queen, she might easily avoid peril imminent, and, if 
 need be, by secret issues take the air abroad, many furlongs about 
 Woodstock in Oxfordshire."* 
 
 It is highly probable, that a singular piece of phantasmagoria, 
 
PREFACE. 37 
 
 which was certainly played off upon the Commissioners of the Long 
 Parliament, who were sent down to dispark and destroy Woodstock, 
 after the death of Charles I., was conducted by means of the secret 
 passages and recesses in the ancient Labyrinth of Rosamond, round 
 which successive Monarchs had erected a Hunting-seat or Lodge. 
 
 There is a curious account of the disturbance given to those 
 Honourable Commissioners, inserted by Doctor Plot, in his Natural 
 History of Oxfordshire. But as I have not the book at hand, I can 
 only allude to the work of the celebrated Glanville upon Witches, 
 who has extracted it as an highly accredited narrative of super- 
 natural dealings. The beds of the Commissioners, and their 
 servants, were hoisted up till they were almost inverted, and then 
 let down again so suddenly, as to menace them with broken bones. 
 Unusual and horrible noises disturbed those sacrilegious intromitters 
 with royal property. The devil, on one occasion, brought them a 
 warming-pan ; on another, pelted them with stones and horses' 
 bones. Tubs of water were emptied on them in their sleep ; and 
 so many other pranks of the same nature played at their expense, 
 that they broke up housekeeping, and left their intended spoliation 
 only half completed. The good sense of Doctor Plot suspected, 
 that these feats were wrought by conspiracy and confederation, 
 which Glanville of course endeavours to refute with all his might ; 
 for it could scarce be expected, that he who believed in so con- 
 venient a solution as that of supernatural agency, would consent to 
 relinquish the service of a key, which will answer any lock, however 
 intricate. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was afterwards discovered, that Doctor Plot was 
 perfectly right ; and that the only demon who wrought all these 
 marvels, was a disguised royalist — a fellow called Trusty Joe, or 
 some such name, formerly in the service of the Keeper of the Park, 
 but who engaged in that of the Commissioners, on purpose to subject 
 them to his persecution. I think I have seen some account of the 
 real state of the transaction, and of the machinery by which the 
 wizard worked his wonders ; but whether in a book, or a pamphlet, 
 I am uncertain. I remember one passage particularly, to this pur- 
 pose. The Commissioners having agreed to retain some articles 
 out of the public account, in order to be divided among themselves, 
 had entered into an indenture, for ascertaining their share in the 
 peculation, which they hid in a bow-pot for security. Now, when 
 an assembly of divines, aided by the most strict religious characters 
 in the neighbourhood of Woodstock, were assembled to conjure 
 down the supposed demon. Trusty Joe had contrived a firework, 
 which he let off in the midst of the exorcism, and which destroyed 
 the bow-pot; and, to the shame and confusion of the Commis- 
 sionerSithrew their secret indenture into the midst of the assembled 
 
38 PREFACE. 
 
 ghost-seers, who became thus acquainted with their secret schemes 
 of peculation. 
 
 It is, however, to little purpose for me to strain my memory about 
 ancient and imperfect recollections concerning the particulars of 
 these fantastic disturbances at Woodstock, since Doctor Rochecliffe's 
 papers give such a much more accurate narrative than could be 
 obtained from any account in existence before their publication. 
 Indeed, I might have gone much more fully into this part of my 
 subject, for the materials are ample ; — but, to tell the reader a secret, 
 some friendly critics were of opinion they made the story hang on 
 hand ; and thus I was prevailed on to be more concise on the 
 subject than I might otherwise have been. 
 
 The impatient reader, perhaps, is by this time accusing me of 
 keeping the sun from him with a candle. Were the sunshine as 
 bright, however, as it is likely to prove ; and the flambeau, or link, 
 a dozen of times as smoky, my friend must remain in the inferior 
 atmosphere a minute longer, while I disclaim the idea of poaching 
 on another's manor. Hawks, we say in Scotland, ought not to pick 
 out hawks' eyes, or tire upon each other's quarry ; and, therefore, if 
 I had known that, in its date and its characters, this tale was likely 
 to interfere with that recently published by a distinguished con- 
 temporary, I should unquestionably have left Doctor Rochecliffe's 
 iiianuscript in peace for the present season. But before I was 
 aware of this circumstance, this little book was half through the 
 press ; and I had only the alternative of avoiding any intentional 
 imitation, by delaying a perusal of the contemporary work in ques- 
 tion. Some accidental collision there must be, when works of a 
 similar character are finished on the same general system of 
 historical manners, and the same historical personages are intro- 
 duced. Of course, if such have occurred, I shall be probably the 
 sufferer. But my intentions have been at least innocent, since I 
 look on it as one of the advantages attending the conclusion o^ 
 Woodstock, that the finishing of my own task will permit me to 
 have the pleasure of reading Brambletye-House, from which I 
 have hitherto conscientiously abstained. 
 
i 
 
 
WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Some were for gospel ministers, 
 And some for red-coat seculars, 
 As men most fit t' hold forth the word, 
 And wield the one and th' other sword. 
 
 Butler's Hudibras, 
 
 There is a handsome parish church in the town of Woodstock,— 
 I am told so, at least, for I never saw it, having scarce time, when 
 at the place, to view the magnificence of Blenheim, its painted 
 halls, and tapestried bowers, and then return in due season to dina 
 
 in hall with my learned friend, the provost of ; being one of 
 
 those occasions on which a man wrongs himself extremely, if he 
 lets his curiosity interfere with his punctuality. I had the church 
 accurately described to me, with a view to this work ; but, as I 
 have some reason to doubt whether my informant had ever seen 
 the jinside of it himself, I shall be content to say that it is now a 
 handsome edifice, most part of which was rebuilt forty or fifty 
 years since, although it still contains some arches of the old 
 chantry, founded, it is said, by King John. It is to this more 
 ancient part of the building that my story refers. 
 
 On a morning in the end of September, or beginning of October, 
 in the year 1652, being a day appointed for a solemn thanksgiving 
 for the decisive victory at Worcester, a respectable audience was 
 assembled in the old chantry, or chapel of King John. The con- 
 dition of the church and character of the audience both bore 
 witness to the rage of civil war, and the peculiar spirit of the times. 
 The sacred edifice showed many marks of dilapidation. The 
 windows, once filled with stained glass, had been dashed to pieces 
 with pikes and muskets, as matters of and pertaining to idolatry. 
 The carving on the reading-desk was damaged, and two fair 
 screens of beautiful sculptured oak had been destroyed, for the 
 same pithy and conclusive reason. The high altar had been 
 removed, and the gilded railing, which was once around it, was 
 
40 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 broken down and carried off. The effigies of several tombs were 
 mutilated, and now lay scattered about the church, 
 
 Tom from their destined niche,— unworthy meed 
 Of knightly counsel or heroic deed ! 
 
 The autumn wind piped through empty aisles, in which the 
 remains of stakes and trevisses of rough-hewn timber, as well as a 
 quantity of scattered hay and trampled straw, seemed to intimate 
 that the hallowed precincts had been, upon some late emergency, 
 made the quarters of a troop of horse. 
 
 The audience, like the building, was abated in splendour. None 
 of the ancient and habitual worshippers during peaceful times, were 
 now to be seen in their carved galleries, with hands shadowing 
 their brows, while composing their minds to pray where their 
 fathers had prayed, and after the same mode of worshig. The eye 
 of the yeoman and peasant sought in vain the tall form of old Sir 
 Henry Lee of Ditchley, as, wrapped in his laced cloak, and with 
 beard and whiskers duly composed, he moved slowly through the 
 aisles, followed by the faithful mastiff, or bloodhound, which in old 
 time had saved his master by his fidelity, and which regularly fol- 
 lowed him to church. Bevis, indeed, fell under the proverb which 
 avers, " He is a good dog which goes to church ;" for, bating an 
 occasional temptation to warble along with the accord, he behaved 
 himself as decorously as any of the congregation, and returned as 
 riiuch edified, perhaps, as most of them. The damsels of Wood- 
 stock looked as vainly for the laced cloaks, jingling spurs, slashed 
 boots, and tall plumes, of the young cavaliers of this and other 
 high-born houses, moving through the streets and the churchyard 
 with the careless ease, which indicates perhaps rather an over- 
 weening degree of self-confidence, yet shows graceful when mingled 
 with good-humour and courtesy. The good old dames, too, in 
 their white hoods and black velvet gowns — their daughters, " the 
 cynosure of neighbouring eyes," — where were they all now, who, 
 when they 'entered the church, used to divide men's thoughts 
 between them and Heaven ? " But, ah ! Alice Lee — so sweet, so 
 gentle, so condescending in thy loveliness — [thus proceeds a con- 
 temporary annalist, whose manuscript we have deciphered] — why 
 is my story to turn upon thy fallen fortunes ? and why not rather 
 to the period when, in the very dismounting from your palfrey, you 
 attracted as many eyes as if an angel had descended, — as many 
 blessings as if the benignant being had come fraught with good 
 tidings ? No creature wert thou of an idle romancer's imagination 
 ^no being fantastically bedizened with inconsistent perfections ; — 
 thy merits made me love thee well— and for thy faults— so well did 
 
WOODSTOCK. 41 
 
 they show amid thy good qualities, that I think they made me 
 love thee better." 
 
 With the house of Lee had disappeared from the chantry of 
 King John others of gentle blood and honoured lineage, — Free- 
 mantles, Winklecombes, Drycotts, &c. ; for the air that blew over 
 the towers of Oxford was unfavourable to the growth of Puritanism, 
 which was more general in the neighbouring counties. There were 
 among the congregation, however, one or two that, by their habits 
 and demeanour, seemed country gentlemen of consideration, and 
 there were also present some of the notables of the town of Wood- 
 stock, cutlers or glovers chiefly, whose skill in steel or leather had 
 raised them to a comfortable livelihood. These dignitaries wore 
 long black cloaks, plaited close at the neck, and, like peaceful 
 citizens, carried their Bibles and memorandum-books at their 
 girdles, instead of knife or sword.* This respectable, but least 
 numerous part of the audience, were such decent persons as had 
 adopted the Presbyterian form of faith, renouncing the liturgy and 
 hierarchy of the Church of England, and living under the tuition of 
 the Rev. Nehemiah Holdenough, much famed for the length and 
 strength of his powers of predication. With these grave seniors 
 sat their goodly dames in ruff and gorget, like the portraits which 
 in catalogues of paintings are designed " wife of a burgomaster ;" 
 and their pretty daughters, whose study, like that of Chaucer's 
 physician, was not always in the Bible, but who were, on the con- 
 trary, when a glance could escape the vigilance of their honoured 
 mothers, inattentive themselves, and the cause of inattention in 
 others. 
 
 But, besides these dignified persons, there were in the church a 
 numerous collection of the lower orders, some brought thither by 
 curiosity, but rnany of them unwashed artificers, bewildered in the 
 theological discussions of the time, and of as many various sects 
 as there are colours in the rainbow. The presumption of these 
 learned Thebans being in exact proportion to their ignorance, the 
 last was total, and the first boundless. Their behaviour in the 
 church was any thing but reverential or edifying. Most of them 
 affected a cynical contempt for all that was only held sacred by 
 human sanction — the church was to these men but a steeple-house, 
 the clergyman, an ordinary person ; her ordinances, dry bran and 
 sapless pottage,* unfitted for the spiritualized palates of the saints, 
 and the prayer, an address to Heaven, to which each acceded or 
 not, as in his too critical judgment he conceived fit. 
 
 The elder amongst them sat or lay on the benches, with their 
 high steeple-crowned hats pulled over their severe and knitted 
 brows, waiting for the Presbyterian parson, as mastiffs sit in dumb 
 expectation of the bull that is to be brought to the stake. The 
 
43 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 younger mixed, some of them, a bolder license of manners with 
 their heresies ; they gazed round on the women, yawned, coughed, 
 and whispered, eat apples, and cracked nuts, as if in the gallery of 
 a theatre ere the piece commences. 
 
 Besides all these, the congregation contained a few soldiers, 
 some in corslets and steel caps, some in buff, and others in red 
 cpats. These men of war had their bandoleers, with ammunition, 
 slung round them, and rested on their pikes and muskets. They, 
 too, had their peculiar doctrines on the most difficult points of 
 religion, and united the extravagances of enthusiasm with the most 
 determined courage and resolution in the field. The burghers of 
 Woodstock looked on these military saints with no small degree of 
 awe ; for though not often sullied with deeds of plunder or cruelty, 
 they had the power of both absolutely in their hands, and the 
 peaceful citizens had no alternative, save submission to whatever 
 the ill-regulated and enthusiastic imaginations of their martial 
 guides might suggest. 
 
 After some time spent in waiting for him, Mr. Holdenough began 
 to walk up the aisles of the chapel, not with the slow and dignified 
 carriage with which the old Rector was of yore wont to maintain 
 the dignity of the surplice, but with a hasty step, like one who 
 arrives too late at an appointment, and bustles forward to make the 
 best use of his time. He was a tall thin man, with an adust com- 
 plexion, and the vivacity of his eye indicated some irascibility of 
 temperament. His dress was brown, not black, and over his other 
 vestments he wore, in honour of Calvin, a Geneva cloak of a blue 
 colour, which fell backwards from his shoulders as he posted on to 
 the pulpit. His grizzled hair was cut as short as shears could 
 perform the feat, and covered with a black silk skullcap, which 
 stuck so close to his head, that the two ears expanded from under 
 it as if they had been intended as handles by which to lift the whole 
 person. Moreover, the worthy divine wore spectacles, and a long 
 grizzled peaked beard, and he carried in his hand a small pocket- 
 bible with silver clasps. Upon arriving at the pulpit, he paused a 
 moment to take breath, then began to ascend the steps by two at a 
 time. 
 
 But his course was arrested by a strong hand, which seized his 
 cloak. It was that of one who had detached himself from the 
 group of soldiery. He was a stout man of middle stature, with a 
 quick eye, and a countenance, which, though plain, had yet an 
 expression that fixed the attention. His dress, though not strictly 
 military, partook of that character. He wore large hose made of 
 calves-leather, and a tuck, as it was then called, or rapier, of tre- 
 mendous length, balanced on the other side by a dagger. The belt 
 was morocco, garnished with pistols. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 43 
 
 The minister, thus intercepted in his duty, faced round upon the 
 party who had seized him, and demanded, in no gentle tone, the 
 meaning of the interruption. 
 
 " Friend," quoth the intruder, " is it thy purpose to hold forth to 
 these good people ? " 
 
 " Ay, marry is it," said the clergyman, " and such is my bounden 
 duty. Woe to me if I preach not the gospel — Prithee, friend, let 
 me not in my labour " 
 
 " Nay," said the man of warlike mien, " I am myself minded to 
 hold forth ; therefore, do thou desist, or if thou wilt do by mine 
 advice, remain and fructify with those poor goslings, to whom I 
 am presently about to shake forth the crumbs of comfortable 
 doctrine." 
 
 " Give place, thou man of Satan," said the priest, waxing wroth, 
 " respect mine order— my cloth." 
 
 " I see no more to respect in the cut of thy cloak, or in the cloth 
 of which it is fashioned," said the other, " than thou didst in the 
 Bishop's rochets — they were black and white, thou art blue and 
 brown. Sleeping dogs every one of you, lying down, loving to 
 slumber — shepherds that starve the flock, but will not watch it, each 
 looking to his own gain — hum." 
 
 Scenes of this indecent kind were so common at the time, that 
 no one thought of interfering ; the congregation looked on in 
 silence, the better class scandalized, and the lower orders, some 
 laughing, and others backing the soldier or minister as their fancy 
 dictated. Meantime the struggle waxed fiercer ; Mr. Holdenough 
 clamoured for assistance. 
 
 " Master Mayor of Woodstock," he exclaimed, " wilt thou be 
 among those wicked magistrates who bear the sword in vain ? — 
 Citizens, will you not help your pastor ? — Worthy Aldermen, will 
 you see me strangled on the pulpit stairs by this man of buff and 
 Belial ? — But lo, I will overcome him, and cast his cords from me." 
 
 As Holdenough spoke, he struggled to ascend the pulpit stairs, 
 holding hard on the banisters. His tormentor held fast by the 
 skirts of the cloak, which went nigh to the choking of the wearer, 
 until, as he spoke the words last mentioned, in a half-strangled 
 voice, Mr, Holdenough dexterously slipped the string which tied it 
 round his neck, so that the garment suddenly gave way ; the soldier 
 fell backwards down the steps, and the liberated divine skipped 
 into the pulpit, and began to give forth a psalm of triumph over his 
 prostrate adversary. But a great hubbub in the church marred his 
 exultation, and although he and his faithful clerk continued to sing 
 the hymn of victory, their notes were only heard by fits, like the 
 whistle of a curlew during a gale of wind. 
 
 The cause of the tumult was as follows : — The Mayor was a 
 
44 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 zealous Presbyterian, and witnessed the intrusion of tiie soldier 
 with great indignation from the very beginning, though he hesitated 
 to interfere with an armed man while on his legs and capable of 
 resistance. But no sooner did he behold the champion of indepen- 
 dency sprawling on his back, with the divine's Geneva cloak flutter- 
 ing in his hands, than the magistrate rushed forward, exclaiming 
 that such insolence was not to be endured, and ordered his con- 
 stables to seize the prostrate champion, proclaiming, in the mag- 
 nanimity of wrath, " I will commit every red-coat of them all — I 
 will commit him were he Noll Cromwell himself ! " 
 
 The worthy Mayor's indignation had overmastered his reason 
 when he made this mistimed vaunt ; for three soldiers, who had 
 hitherto stood motionless like statues, made each a stride in 
 advance, which placed them betwixt the municipal officers and the 
 soldier, who was in the act of rising ; then making at once the 
 movement of resting arms according to the manual as then prac- 
 tised, their musket-buts rang on the church pavement, within an 
 inch of the gouty toes of Master Mayor. The energetic magistrate, 
 whose efforts in favour of order were thus checked, cast one glance 
 on his supporters, but that was enough to show him that force was 
 not on his side. All had shrunk back on hearing that ominous- 
 clatter of stone and iron. He was obliged to descend to expos- 
 tulation. 
 
 " What do you mean, my masters ? " he said ; " is it like a decent 
 and God-fearing soldiery, who have wrought such things for the 
 land as have never before been heard of, to brawl and riot in the 
 church, or to aid, abet, and comfort a profane fellow, who hath 
 upon a solemn thanksgiving, excluded the minister from his own 
 pulpit ? " 
 
 " We have nought to do with thy church, as thou call'st it," said 
 he who, by a small feather in front of his morion, appeared to be 
 the corporal of the party ; — " we see not why men of gifts should 
 not be heard within these citadels of superstition, as well as the 
 voice of the men of crape of old, and the men of cloak now. 
 Wherefore, we will pluck yon Jack Presbyter out of his wooden 
 senthiel-box, and our own watchman shall relieve the guard, and 
 mount thereon, and cry aloud and spare not." 
 
 " Nay, gentlemen," said the Mayor, " if such be your purpose, 
 we have not the means to withstand you, being, as you see, peaceful 
 and quiet men — But let me first speak with this worthy minister, 
 Nehemiah Holdenough, to persuade him to yield up his place for 
 the time without farther scandal." 
 
 The peace-making Mayor then interrupted the quavering of 
 Holdenough and the clerk, and prayed both to retire, else there 
 would, he said, be certainly strife. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 4S 
 
 " Strife ! " replied the Presbyterian divine, with scorn ; " no fear 
 of strife, among men that dare not testify against this open pro- 
 fanation of the church, and daring display of heresy. Would your 
 neighbours of Banbury have brooked such an insult ? " 
 
 " Come, come, Master Holdenough," said the Mayor, " put us 
 not to mutiny and cry Clubs, I tell you once more, we are not 
 men of war or blood." 
 
 " Not more than may be drawn by the point of a needle," said 
 the preacher, scornfully. — " Ye tailors of Woodstock ! — for what is 
 a glover but a tailor working on kid-skin ? — I forsake you, in scorn 
 of your faint hearts and feeble hands, and will seek me elsewhere a 
 flock which will not fly from their shepherd at the braying of the 
 first wild ass which cometh from out the great desert." 
 
 So saying, the aggrieved divine departed from his pulpit, and 
 shaking the dust from his shoes, left the church as hastily as he 
 had entered it, though with a different reason for his speed. The 
 citizens saw his retreat with sorrow, and not without a compunctious 
 feeling, as if conscious that they were not playing the most 
 courageous part in the world. The Mayor himself and several 
 others left the church, to follow and appease him. 
 
 The Independent orator, late prostrate, was now triumphant, and 
 inducting himself into the pulpit without farther ceremony, he 
 pulled a Bible from his pocket, and selected his text from the forty- 
 fifth psalm, — " Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with 
 thy glory and thy majesty : and in thy majesty ride prosperously." 
 — Upon this theme he commenced one of those wild declamations 
 common at the period, in which men were accustomed to wrest 
 and pervert the language of Scripture, by adapting it to modern 
 events.* The language which, in its literal sense, was applied to 
 King David, and typically referred to the coming of the Messiah, 
 was, in the opinion of the military orator, most properly to be inter- 
 preted of Oliver Cromwell, the victorious general of the infant 
 Commonwealth, which was never destined to come of age. " Gird 
 on thy sword ! " exclaimed the preacher emphatically ; " and was 
 not that a pretty bit of steel as ever dangled from a corslet, or rung 
 against a steel saddle ? Ay, ye prick up your ears now, ye cutlers 
 of Woodstock, as if ye should know something of a good fox broad- 
 sword — Did you forge it, I trow ? — was the steel quenched with 
 water from Rosamond's well, or the blade blessed by the old 
 cuckoldy priest of Godstow ? You would have us think, I warrant 
 me, that you wrought it and welded it, grinded and polished it, and 
 all the while it never came on a Woodstock stithy ! You were all 
 too busy making whittles for the lazy crape-men of Oxford, bounc- 
 ing priests, whose eyes were so closed up with fat, that they could 
 not see Destruction till she had them by the throat. But I can tell 
 
46 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 you where the sword was forged, and tempered, and welded, and 
 grinded, and polished. When you were, as I said before, making 
 whittles for false priests, and daggers for dissolute G — d d — n-me 
 cavaliers, to cut the people of England's throats with — it was forged 
 at Long Marston Moor, where blows went faster than ever rung 
 hammer on anvil — and it was tempered at Naseby, in the best 
 blood of the cavaliers — and it was welded in Ireland against the 
 walls of Drogheda — and it was grinded on Scottish lives at Dunbar 
 — and now of late it was polished in Worcester, till it shines as 
 bright as the sun in the middle heaven, and there is no light in 
 England that shall come nigh unto it." 
 
 Here the military part of the congregation raised a hum of appro- 
 bation, which being a sound like the " hear, hear," of the British 
 House of Commons, was calculated to heighten the enthusiasm of 
 the orator, by intimating the sympathy of the audience. " And 
 then," resumed the preacher, rising in energy as he found that his 
 audience partook in these feelings, " what sayeth the text ? — Ride 
 on prosperously — do not stop — do not call a halt — do not quit the 
 saddle — pursue the scattered fliers — sound the trumpet — not a 
 levant or a flourish, but a point of war — sound, boot and saddle — 
 to horse and away — a charge ! — follow after the young Man ! — . 
 what part have we in him ? — Slay, take, destroy, divide the spoil ! 
 Blessed art thou, Oliver, on account of thine honour — thy cause is 
 clear, thy call is undoubted — never has defeat come near thy lead- 
 ing staif, nor disaster attended thy banner. Ride on, flower of 
 England's soldiers ! ride on, chosen leader of God's champions ! 
 gird up the loins of thy resolution, and be steadfast to the mark of 
 thy high calling ! " 
 
 Another deep and stern hum, echoed by the ancient embow'd 
 arches of the old chantry, gave him an opportunity of an instant's 
 repose ; when the people of Woodstock heard him, and not without 
 anxiety, turn the stream of his oratory into another channel. 
 
 " But wherefore, ye people of Woodstock, do I say these things 
 to you, who claim no portion in our David, no interest in England's 
 son of Jesse ? — You, who were fighting as well as your might could 
 (and it was not very formidable) for the late Man, under that old 
 blood-thirsty papist Sir Jacob Aston — are you not now plotting, or 
 ready to plot, for the restoring, as ye call it, of the young Man, the 
 unclean son of the slaughtered tyrant — the fugitive after whom the 
 true hearts of England are now following, that they may take and 
 slay him ? — ' Why should your rider turn his bridle our way ? ' say 
 you in your hearts ; 'we will none of him ; if we may help our- 
 selves, we will rather turn us to wallow in the mire of monarchy, 
 with the sow that was washed but newly.' Come, men of Wood- 
 stock, I will ask, and do you answer me. Hunger ye still after the 
 
WOODSTOCK. 47 
 
 flesh-pots of the monks of Godstow ? and ye will say, Nay ;— but 
 wherefore, except that the pots are cracked and broken, and the 
 fire is extinguished wherewith thy oven used to boil ? And again, 
 I ask, drink ye still of the well of the fornications of the fair Rosa- 
 mond ? — ye will say, Nay ; — but wherefore ? " — 
 
 Here the orator, ere he could answer the question in his own way, 
 was surprised by the following reply, very pithily pronounced by 
 one of the congregation : — " Because you, and the like of you, have 
 left us no brandy to mix with it." 
 
 All eyes turned to the audacious speaker, who stood beside one 
 of the thick sturdy Saxon pillars, which he himself somewhat re- 
 sembled, being short of stature, but very strongly made, a squat 
 broad Little John sort of figure, leaning on a quarterstaff, and 
 wearing a jerkin, which, though now sorely stained and discoloured, 
 had once been of the Lincoln green, and showed remnants of having 
 been laced. There was an air of careless good-humoured audacity 
 about the fellow ; and, though under military restraint, there were 
 some of the citizens who could not help crying out, — " Well said, 
 Joceline Joliffe ! " 
 
 " Jolly Joceline, call ye him .-' " proceeded the preacher, without 
 showing either confusion or displeasure at the interruption, — " I 
 will make him Joceline of the jail, if he interrupts me again. One 
 of your park-keepers, I warrant, that can never forget they have 
 borne C. R. upon their badges and bugle-horns, even as a dog 
 bears his owner's name on his collar — a pretty emblem for Christian 
 men ! But the brute beast hath the better of him, — the brute 
 weareth his own coat, and the caitiff thrall wears his master's. I 
 have seen such a wag make a rope's end wag ere now. — Where was 
 I .?— Oh, rebuking you for your backslidings, men of Woodstock. — 
 Yes, then ye will say ye have renounced Popery, and ye have re- 
 nounced Prelacy, and then ye wipe your mouth like Pharisees as 
 ye are ; and who but you for purity of religion ! But I tell you, ye 
 are but like Jehu the son of Nimshi, who broke down the house of 
 Baal, yet departed not from the sins of Jeroboam. Even so ye eat 
 not fish on Friday with the blinded Papists, nor minced-pies on the 
 twenty-fifth day of December, like the slothful Prelatists ; but ye 
 will gorge on sack-posset each night in the year with your blind 
 Presbyterian guide, and ye will speak evil of dignities, and revile 
 the Commonwealth ; and ye will glorify yourselves in your park of 
 Woodstock, and say, ' Was it not walled in first of any other in 
 England, and that by Henry, son of William called the Con- 
 queror ? ' And ye have a princely Lodge therein, and call the 
 same a Royal Lodge ; and ye have an oak which ye call the 
 King's Oak ; and ye steal and eat the venison of the park ; and 
 ye say, ' This is the king's venison, we will wash it down with a cup 
 
48 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 to the king's health— better we eat it than those roundheaded com- 
 monwealth knaves.' But listen unto me, and take warning. Foi 
 these things come we to controversy with you. And our name 
 shall be a cannon-shot, before which your Lodge, in the pleasant- 
 ness whereof ye take pastime, shall be blown into ruins ; and we 
 will be as a wedge to split asunder the King's oak into billets to 
 heat a brown baker's oven ; and we will dispark your park, and 
 slay your deer, and eat them ourselves, neither shall you have any 
 portion thereof, whether in neck or haunch. Ye shall not haft a 
 tenpenny knife with the horns thereof, neither shall ye cut a pair of 
 breeches out of the hide, for all ye be cutlers and glovers ; and ye 
 shall have no comfort or support neither from the sequestrated 
 traitor Henry Lee, who called himself ranger of Woodstock, nor 
 from any on his behalf ; for they are coming hither who shall be 
 called Maher-shalal-hash-baz, because he maketh haste to the spoil." 
 Here ended this wild effusion, the latter part of which fell heavy 
 on the souls of the poor citizens of Woodstock, as tending to con- 
 firm a report of an unpleasing nature which had been lately circu- 
 lated. The communication with London was indeed slow, and the 
 news which it transmitted were uncertain : no less uncertain were 
 the times themselves, and the rumours which were circulated, 
 exaggerated by the hopes and fears of so many various factions. 
 But the general stream of report, so far as Woodstock was con- 
 cerned, had of late run uniformly in one direction. Day after day 
 they had been informed, that the fatal fiat of Parliament had gone 
 out, for selling the park of Woodstock, destroying its lodge, dis- 
 parking its forest, and erasing, as far as they could be erased, all 
 traces of its ancient fame. Many of the citizens were likely to be 
 sufferers on this occasion, as several of them enjoyed, either by 
 sufferance or right, various convenient privileges, of pasturage, 
 cutting firewood, and the like, in the royal chase ; and all the 
 inhabitants of the little borough were hurt to think, that the scenery 
 of the place was to be destroyed, its edifices ruined, and its honours 
 rent away. This is a patriotic sensation often found in such places, 
 which ancient distinctions and long-cherished recollections of former 
 days, render so different from towns of recent date. The natives 
 of Woodstock felt it in the fullest force. They had trembled at the 
 anticipated calamity ; but now, when it was announced by the 
 appearance of those dark, stern, and at the same time omnipotent 
 soldiers— now that they heard it proclaimed by the mouth of one oi 
 their militarj' preachers— they considered their fate as inevitable. 
 The causes of disagreement among themselves were for the time 
 forgotten, as the congregation, dismissed without psalmody or 
 benediction, went slowly and mournfully homeward, each to his 
 own place of abode. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 49 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Come forth, old man— Thy daughter's side 
 
 Is now the fitting place for thee ; 
 When Time hath quell'd the oak's bold pride, 
 
 The youthful tendril yet may hide 
 The ruins of the parent tree. 
 
 When the sermon was ended, the military orator wiped his 
 brow ; for, notwithstanding the coolness of the weather, he was 
 heated with the vehemence of his speech and action. He then 
 descended from the pulpit, and spoke a word or two to the corporal 
 who commanded the party of soldiers, who^ replying by a sober 
 nod of intelligence, drew his men together, and marched them in 
 order to their quarters in the town. 
 
 The preacher himself, as if nothing extraordinary had hap- 
 pened, left the church and sauntered through the streets of Wood- 
 stoclc, with the air of a stranger who was viewing the town, without 
 seeming to observe that he was himself in his turn anxiously 
 surveyed by the citizens, whose furtive yet frequent glances seemed 
 to regard him as something alike suspected and dreadful, yet on no 
 account to be provoked. He heeded them not, but stalked on in 
 the manner affected by the distinguished fanatics of the day ; a 
 stiff solemn pace, a severe and at the same time a contemplative 
 look, like that of a man discomposed at the interruptions which 
 earthly objects forced upon him, obliging him by their intrusion to 
 withdraw his thoughts for an instant from celestial things. Inno- 
 cent pleasures of what kind soever they held in suspicion and con- 
 tempt, and innocent mirth they abominated. It was, however, a 
 cast of mind that formed men for great and manly actions, as it 
 adopted principle, and that of an unselfish character, for the 
 ruling motive, instead of the gratification of passion. Some of 
 these men were indeed hypocrites, using the cloak of religion only 
 as a covering for their ambition ; but many really possessed the 
 devotional character, and the severe republican virtue, which 
 others only affected. By far the greater inumber hovered between 
 these extremes, felt to a certain extent the power of religion, and 
 compUed with the times in affecting a great deal. 
 
 The individual, whose pretensions to sanctity, written as they 
 were upon his brow and gait, have given rise to the above digres- 
 sion, reached at length the extremity of the principal street, which 
 terminates upon the park of Woodstock. A battlemented portal 
 of Gothic appearance defended the entrance to the avenue. It was 
 of mbced architecture, but on the whole, though composed of the 
 styles of the different ages when it had received additions, had a 
 
so WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Striking and imposing effect. An immense gate composed of rails 
 of hammered iron, with many a flourish and scroll, displaying as 
 its uppermost ornament the ill-fated cipher of C. R., was now 
 , decayed, being partly wasted with rust, partly by violence. 
 
 The stranger paused, as if uncertain whether he should demand 
 or assay entrance. He looked through the grating down an 
 avenue skirted by majestic oaks, which led onward with a gentle 
 curve, as if into the depths of some ample and ancient forest. 
 The wicket of the large iron gate being left, unwittingly open, the 
 soldier was tempted to enter, yet with some hesitation, as he that 
 intrudes upon ground which he conjectures may be prohibited — 
 indeed his manner showed more reverence for the scene than could 
 have been expected from his condition and character. He slackened 
 his stately and consequential pace, and at length stood still, and 
 looked around him. 
 
 Not far from the gate, he saw rising from the trees one or two 
 ancient and venerable turrets, bearing each its own vane of rare 
 device glittering in the autumn sun. These indicated the ancient 
 hunting seat, or Lodge, as it was called, which had, since the time of 
 Henry n., been occasionally the residence of the English monarchs, 
 when it pleased them to visit the woods of Oxford, which then so 
 abounded with game, that, according to old Fuller, huntsmen and 
 falconers were nowhere better pleased. The situation which the 
 Lodge occupied was a piece of flat ground, now planted with syca- 
 mores, not far from the entrance to that magnificent spot, where 
 the spectator first stops to gaze upon Blenheim, to think of Marl- 
 borough's victories, and to applaud or criticise the cumbrous mag- 
 nificence of Vanburgh's style. 
 
 There, too, paused our military preacher, but with other thoughts, 
 and for other purpose, than to admire the scene around him. It 
 was not long afterwards when he beheld two persons, a male and a 
 female, approaching slowly, and so deeply engaged in their own 
 conversation that they did not raise their eyes to observe, 
 that there stood a stranger in the path before them. The soldier 
 took advantage of their state of abstraction, and, desirous at once 
 to watch their motions and avoid their observation, he glided 
 beneath one of the huge trees which skirted the path, and whose 
 boughs, sweeping the ground on every side, ensured him against 
 discovery, unless in case of an actual search. 
 
 In the meantime, the gentlemain and lady continued to advance, 
 directing their course to a rustic seat, which still enjoyed the 
 sunbeams, and was placed adjacent to the tree where the stranger 
 was concealed. 
 
 The man was elderly, yet seemed bent more by sorrow and 
 infirmity, than by the weight of years. He wore a mourning 
 
WOODSTOCK. 
 
 SI 
 
 cloak, over a dress of the same melancholy colour, cut in that 
 picturesque form which Vandyck has rendered immortal. But 
 although the dress was handsome, it was put on and worn with 
 a carelessness which showed the mind of the wearer ill at ease. 
 His aged, yet still handsome countenance, had the same air of 
 consequence which distinguished his dress and his gait. A 
 striking part of his appearance was a long white beard, which 
 descended far over the breast of his slashed doublet, and looked 
 singular from its contrast in colour with his habit. 
 
 The young lady, by whom this venerable gentleman seemed 
 to be in some degree supported as they walked arm in arm, was 
 a slight and sylphlike form, with a person so delicately made, 
 and so beautiful in countenance, that it seemed the earth on 
 which she walked was too grossly massive a support for a crea- 
 ture so aerial. But mortal beauty must share human sorrows. 
 The eyes of the beautiful being showed tokens of tears ; her 
 colour was heightened as she listened to her aged companion ; 
 and it was plain, from his melancholy yet displeased look, that 
 the conversation was as distressing to himself as to her. When 
 they sat down on the bench we have mentioned, the gentleman's 
 discourse could be distinctly overheard by the eavesdropping 
 soldier, but the answers of the young lady reached his ear rather 
 less distinctly. 
 
 " It is not to be endured ! " said the old man, passionately ; 
 "it would stir up a paralytic wretch to start up a soldier. My 
 people have been thinned, I grant you, or have fallen off from 
 me in these times — I owe them no grudge for it, poor knaves ; 
 what should they do waiting on me, when the pantry has no 
 bread and the buttery no ale ? But we have still about us some 
 rugged foresters of the old Woodstock breed — old as myself most 
 of them— what of that? old wood seldom warps in the wetting; 
 —I will hold out the old house, and it will not be the first time 
 that I have held it against ten times the strength that we hear 
 of now." 
 
 " Alas ! my dear father ! " — said the young lady, in a tone 
 which seemed to intimate his proposal of defence to be altogether 
 desperate. 
 
 " And why, alas ? " said the gentleman, angrily ; " is it because 
 I shut my door against a score or two of these blood-thirsty 
 hypocrites ? " 
 
 " But their masters can as easily send a regiment or an army, if 
 they will," replied the lady ; " and what good would your present 
 defence do, excepting to exasperate them to your utter destruc- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " Be it so, Alice," replied her father j " I have lived my time, 
 
 E 2 
 
5a WOODSTOCK. 
 
 and beyond it, I have outlived the kindest and most princelike of 
 masters. What do I do on the earth since the dismal thirtieth of 
 January? The parricide of that day was a signal to all true 
 servants of Charles Stewart to avenge his death, or die as soon 
 after as they could find a worthy opportunity ! " 
 
 « Do not speak thus, sir," said Alice Lee ; " it does not become 
 your gravity and your worth to throw away that life which may yet 
 be of service to your king and country, — it will not and cannot 
 always be thus. England will not long endure the rulers which 
 these bad times have assigned her. In the meanwhile— [here a 
 few words escaped the listener's ears]— and beware of that impatii 
 ence, which makes bad worse." 
 
 " Worse ? " exclaimed the impatient old man, " What can be 
 worse ? Is it not at the worst already ? Will not these people expel 
 us from the only shelter we have left — dilapidate what remains of 
 royal property under my charge — make the palace of princes into 
 a den of thieves, and then wipe their mouths and thank God, as if 
 they had done an almsdeed ? " 
 
 " Still," said his daughter, "there is hope behind, and I trust the 
 King is ere this out of their reach — We have reason to think well 
 of my brother Albert's safety." 
 
 " Ay, Albert ! there again," said the old man, in a tone of 
 reproach ; " had it not been for thy entreaties I had gone to 
 Worcester myself; but I must needs lie here like a worthless 
 hound when the hunt is up, when who knows what service I 
 might have shown ? An old man's head is sometimes useful 
 when his arm is but little worth. But you and Albert were so 
 desirous that he should go alone — and now, who can say what 
 has become of him ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay, father," said Alice, " we have good hope that Albert 
 escaped from that fatal day ; young Abney saw him a mile from 
 the field." 
 
 "Young Abney lied, I believe," said the father, in the same 
 humour of contradiction — " Young Abney's tongue seems quicker 
 than his hands, but far slower than his horse's heels when he 
 leaves the roundheads behind him. I would 'rather Albert's dead 
 body were laid between Charles and Cromwell, than hear he fled 
 as early as young Abney." 
 
 " My dearest father," said the young lady, weeping as she spoke, 
 " what can I say to comfort you ? " 
 
 " Comfort me, say'st thou, girl ? I am sick of comfort— an 
 honourable death, with the ruins of Woodstock for my monu- 
 ment, were the only comfort to old Henry Lee. Yes, by the 
 memory of my fathers ! I will make good the Lodge against 
 these rebellious robbers." 
 
WOODSTOCK. S3 
 
 " Yet be ruled, dearest father," said the maiden, " and submit to 
 that which we cannot gainsay. My uncle Everard " 
 
 Here the old man caught at her unfinished words. " Thy uncle 
 Everard, wench !— Well, get on.— What of thy precious and loving 
 uncle Everard ? " 
 
 " Nothing, sir,'' she said, " if the subject displeases you." 
 
 "Displeases me?" he rephed, "why should it displease me? 
 or if it did, why shouldst thou, or any one, affect to care about 
 it ? What is it that hath happened of late years — what is it can 
 be thought to happen that astrologer can guess at, which can 
 give pleasure to us ?" 
 
 " Fate," she replied, " may have in store the joyful restoration of 
 our banished Prince." 
 
 " Too late for my time, Alice," said the knight ; " if there be 
 such a white page in the heavenly book, it will not be turned 
 until long after my day. — But I see thou wouldst escape me. — 
 In a word, what of thy uncle Everard ? " 
 
 " Nay, sir," said Alice, " God knows I would rather be silent 
 for ever, than speak what might, as you would take it, add to 
 your present distemperature." 
 
 " Distemperature ! " said her father ; " Oh, thou art a sweet- 
 lipped physician, and wouldst, I warrant me, drop nought but 
 sweet balm, and honey, and oil, on my distemperature — if that is 
 the phrase for an old man's ailment, when he is wellnigh heart- 
 broken. — Once more, what of thy uncle Everard ? " 
 
 His last words were uttered in a high and peevish tone of 
 voice ; and Alice Lee answered her father in a trembling and 
 submissive tone. 
 
 " I only meant to say, sir, that I am well assured that my uncle 
 Everard, when we quit this place " 
 
 " That is to say, when we are kicked out of it by crop-eared 
 canting villains like himself — But on with thy bountiful uncle— 
 what will he do ? will he give us the remains of his worshipful and 
 economical house-keeping, the fragments of a thrice-sacked capon 
 twice a-week, and a plentiful fast on the other five days ? — Will he 
 give us beds beside his half-starved nags, and put them under a 
 short allowance of straw, that his sister's husband — that I should 
 have called my deceased angel by such a name ! — and his sister's 
 daughter, may not sleep on the stones ? Or will he send us a noble 
 each, with a warning to make it last, for he had never known the 
 ready-penny so hard to come by ? Or what else will your uncle 
 Everard do for us ? Get us a furlough to beg ? Why, I can do 
 that without him." 
 
 " You misconstrue him much,'' answered Alice, with more spirit 
 than she had hitherto displayed ; " and would you but question 
 
54 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 your own heart, you would acknowledge — I speak with reverence- 
 that your tongue utters what your better judgment would disown. 
 My uncle Everard is neither a miser nor a hypocrite, — ^neither so 
 fond of the goods of this world that he would not supply our 
 distresses amply, nor so wedded to fanatical opinions as to exclude 
 charity for other sects beside his own." 
 
 " Ay, ay, the Church of England is a sect with him, I doubt not, 
 and perhaps with thee too, Alice," said the knight. " What is a 
 Muggletonian, or a Ranter, or a Brownist, but a sectary? and thy 
 phrase places them all, with Jack Presbyter himself, on the same 
 footing with our learned prelates and religious clergy ! Such is the 
 cant of the day thou livest in, and why shouldst thou not talk like 
 one of the wise virgins and psalm-singing sisters, since, though thou 
 hast a profane old cavalier for a father, thou art own niece to pious 
 uncle Everard ? " 
 
 " If you speak thus, my dear father," said Alice, " what can I 
 answer you ? Hear me but one patient word, and I shall have 
 discharged my uncle Everard's commission." 
 
 " Oh, it is a commission, then ? Surely, I suspected so much 
 from the beginning — nay, have some sharp guess touching the 
 ambassador also. — Come, madam the mediator, do your errand, 
 and you shall have no reason to complain of my patience." 
 
 " Then, sir," repUed his daughter, " my uncle Everard desires 
 you would be courteous to the Commissioners, who come here to 
 sequestrate the parks and the property ; or, at least, heedfuUy to 
 abstain from giving them obstacle or opposition : it can, he says, 
 do no good, even on your own principles, and it will give a pretext 
 for proceeding against you as one in the worst degree of mahgnity, 
 which he thinks may otherwise be prevented. Nay, he has good 
 hope, that if you follow his counsel, the committee may, through 
 the interest he possesses, be inclined to remove the sequestration of 
 your estate on a moderate fine. Thus says my uncle ; and having 
 communicated his advice, I have no occasion to urge your patience 
 v;ith farther argument." 
 
 " It is well thou dost not, Alice," answered Sir Henry Lee, in a 
 tone of suppressed anger ; " for, by the blessed Rood, thou hast 
 wellnigh led me into the heresy of thinking thee no daughter of 
 mine. — Ah ! my beloved companion, who art now far from the 
 sorrows and cares of this weary world, couldst thou have thought 
 that the daughter thou didst clasp to thy bosom, would, Uke the 
 wicked wife of Job, become a temptress to her father in the hour of 
 affliction, and recommend to him to make his conscience truckle to 
 his interest, and to beg back at the bloody hands of his master's, and 
 perhaps his son's murderers, a wretched remnant of the royal 
 property he has been robbed of !— Why, wench, if I must beg, 
 
WOODSTOCK. SS 
 
 think'st thou I will sue to those who have made me a mendicant ? 
 No. I will never show my grey beard, worn in sorrow for my 
 sovereign's death, to move the compassion of some proud seques- 
 trator, who perhaps was one of the parricides. No. If Henry Lee 
 must sue for food, it shall be of some sound loyalist like himself, 
 who, having but half a loaf remaining, will not nevertheless refuse to 
 share it with him. For his daughter, she may wander her own way, 
 which leads her to a refuge with her wealthy roundhead kinsfolk ; 
 but let her no more call him father, whose honest indigence she 
 has refused to share ! " 
 
 " You do me injustice, sir," answered the young lady, with a voice 
 animated yet faltering, " cruel injustice. God knows, your way is 
 my way, though it lead to ruin and beggary ; and while you tread 
 it, my arm shall support you while you will accept an aid so feeble." 
 
 " Thou word'st me, girl," answered the old cavalier, " thou 
 word'st me, as Will Shakspeare says — thou speakest of lending me 
 thy arm ; but thy secret thought is thyself to hang upon Markham 
 Everard's." 
 
 " My father, my father," answered Alice, in a tone of deep grief, 
 '•■ what can thus have altered your clear judgment and kindly heart ? 
 — Accursed be these civil commotions ! not only do they destroy 
 men's bodies, but they pervert their souls ; and the brave, the noble, 
 the generous, become suspicious, harsh, and mean ! Why upbraid 
 me with Markham Everard ? Have I seen or spoke to him since 
 you forbid him my company, with terms less kind — I will speak it 
 truly — than was due even to the relationship betwixt you ? Why 
 think I would sacrifice to that young man my duty to you ? Know, 
 that were I capable of such criminal weakness, Markham Everard 
 were the first to despise me for it." 
 
 She put her handkerchief to her eyes, but she could not hide her 
 sobs, nor conceal the distress they intimated. The old man was 
 moved. 
 
 " I cannot tell," he said, " what to think of it. Thou seem'st 
 sincere, and wert ever a good and kindly daughter — how thou hast 
 let that rebel youth creep into thy heart I wot not ; perhaps it is a 
 punishment on me, who thought the loyalty of my house was like 
 undefiled ermine. Yet here is a damned spot, and on the fairest 
 gem of all — my own dear Alice. But do not weep — we have enough 
 to vex us. Where is it that Shakspeare hath it : — 
 
 ' Gentle daughter, 
 
 Give even way unto my rough affairs ; 
 Put you not on the temper of the times. 
 Nor be, like them, to Percy troublesome.' " 
 
 "I am glad," answered the young lady, "to hear you quote your 
 
S6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 favourite again, sir. Our little jars are ever weUnigh ended when 
 Shakspeare comes in play." 
 
 " His book was the closet-companion of my blessed master, ' said 
 Sir Henry Lee ; " after the Bible, (with reverence for naming them 
 together ! ) he felt more comfort in it than in any other ; and as I 
 have shared his disease, why, it is natural I should take his medicine. 
 Albeit, I pretend not to my master's art in explaining the dark 
 passages ; for I am but a rude man, and rustically brought up to 
 arms and hunting." 
 
 "You have seen Shakspeare yourself, sir?" said the young 
 lady. 
 
 " Silly wench," replied the knight, " he died when I was a mere 
 child— thou hast heard me say so twenty times ; but thou wouldst 
 lead the old man awayfrom the tender subject. Well, though I am not 
 blind, I can shut my eyes and follow. Ben Jonson I knew, and could 
 tell thee many a tale of our meetings at the Mermaid, where, if there 
 was much wine, there was much wit also. We did not sit blowing 
 tobacco in each other's faces, and turning up the whites of our eyes 
 as we turned up the bottom of the wine-pot. Old Ben adopted me 
 as one of his sons in the muses. I have shown you, have I not, the 
 verses, ' To my much beloved son, the worshipful Sir Henry Lee of 
 Ditchley, Knight and Baronet ? ' " 
 
 " I do not remember them at present, sir," replied Alice. 
 
 " I fear ye he, wench," said her father ; " but no matter— thou 
 canst not get any more fooHng out of me just now. The Evil Spirit 
 hath left Saul for the present. We are now to think what is to 
 be done about leaving Woodstock — or defending it ? " 
 
 " My dearest father," said Alice, " can you still nourish a moment's 
 hope of making good the place ? " 
 
 " I know not, wench," replied Sir Henry ; " I would fain have a 
 parting blow with them, 'tis certain — and who knows where a blessing 
 may alight ? But then, my poor knaves that must take part with me 
 in so hopeless a quarrel — that thought hampers me, I confess." 
 
 " Oh, let it do so, sir," replied Alice ; " there are soldiers in 
 the town, and there are three regiments at Oxford ! " 
 
 " Ah, poor Oxford ! " exclaimed Sir Henry, whose vacillating 
 state of mind was turned by a word to any new subject that was 
 suggested, — " Seat of learning and loyalty ! these rude soldiers are 
 unfit inmates for thy learned halls and poetical bowers ; but thy 
 pure and brilliant lamp shall defy the foul breath of a thousand 
 churls, were they to blow at it like Boreas. The burning bush shall 
 not be consumed, even by the heat of this persecution." 
 
 " True, sir," said Alice, " and it may not be useless to recollect, 
 that any stirring of the royalists at this unpropitious moment will 
 make them deal yet more harshly with the University, which they 
 
WOODSTOCK. 57 
 
 consider as being at the bottom of everything which moves for the 
 King in these parts." 
 
 " It is true, wench," replied the knight ; " and small cause would 
 make the villains sequestrate the poor remains which the civil wars 
 have left to the colleges. That, and the risk of my poor fellows — 
 Well ; thou hast disarmed me, girl. I will be as patient and calm 
 as a martyr." 
 
 " Pray God you keep your word, sir ! " replied his daughter ; 
 " but you are ever so much moved at the sight of any of these men, 
 
 that" 
 
 " Would you make a child of me, Alice ? " said Sir Henry. " Why, 
 know you not that I can look upon a viiper, or a toad, or a bunch of 
 engendering adders, without any worse feeling than a little disgust ? 
 and though a roundhead, and especially^ a red-coat, are in my 
 opinion more poisonous than vipers, more loathsome than toads, 
 more hateful than knotted adders, yet can I overcome my nature 
 so far, that should one of them appear at this moment, thyself 
 should see how civilly I would entreat him." 
 
 As he spoke, the military preacher abandoned his leafy screen, 
 and, stalking forward, stood unexpectedly before the old cavalier, 
 who stared at him, as if he had thought his expressions had actually 
 raised the devil. 
 
 " Who art thou ? " at length said Sir Henry, in a raised and angry 
 voice, while his daughter clung to his arm in terror, little confident 
 that her father's pacific resolutions would abide the shock of this 
 unwelcome appai'ition. 
 
 " I am one," replied the soldier, " who neither fear nor shame to 
 
 call myself a poor day-labourer in the great work of England — 
 
 umph ! — Ay, a simple and sincere upholder of the good old cause." 
 
 " And what the devil do you seek here ? " said the old knight, 
 
 fiercely. 
 
 " The welcome due to the steward of the Lords Commissioners," 
 answered the soldier. 
 
 "Welcome art thou as salt would be to sore eyes," said the 
 cavalier ; "but who be your Commissioners, man ? " 
 
 The soldier with little courtesy held out a scroll, which Sir Henry 
 took from him betwixt his finger and thumb, as if it were a letter 
 from a pest-house ; and held it at as much distance from his eyes, 
 as his purpose of reading it would permit. He then read aloud, 
 and as he named the parties one by one, he added a short com- 
 mentary on each name, addressed, indeed, to Alice, but in such a 
 tone that showed he cared not for its being heard by the soldier. 
 
 " Desborougk — the ploughman Desborough — as grovelling a 
 clown as is in England — a fellow that would be best at home, like 
 an ancient Scythian, under the tilt of a waggon— d — n him. 
 
S3 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Harrison, a bloody-minded, ranting enthusiast, who read the Bible 
 to such purpose, that he never lacked a text to justify a murder— 
 d — n him too. Sletson — a true-blue Commonwealth's man, one of 
 Harrison's Rota Club, with his noddle full of newfangled notions 
 about government, the clearest object of which is to establish the 
 tail upon the head ; a fellow who leaves you the statutes and law 
 of old England, to prate of Rome and Greece— sees the Areopagus 
 in Westminster-Hall, and takes old Noll for a Roman Consul — 
 Adad, he is like to prove a dictator amongst them instead. Never 
 mind — d — n Bletson too." 
 
 " Friend," said the soldier, " I would willingly be civil, but it 
 consists not with my duty to hear these godly men, in whose service 
 I am, spoken of after this irreverent and unbecoming fashion. And 
 albeit I know that you malignants think you have a right to make, 
 free with that damnation, which you seem to use as your own 
 portion, yet it is superfluous to invoke it against others, who 
 have better hopes in their thoughts, and better words in their 
 mouths." 
 
 " Thou art but a canting varlet," rephed the knight ; " and yet 
 thou art right in some sense — for it is superfluous to curse men 
 who already are damned as black as the smoke of hell itself." 
 
 " I prithee forbear," continued the soldier, " for manners' sake, 
 if not for conscience — grisly oaths suit ill with grey beards." 
 
 " Nay, that is truth, if the devil spoke it," said the knight ; " and 
 I thank Heaven I can foUow good counsel, though old Nick gives 
 it. And so, friend, touching these same Commissioners, bear them 
 this message ; that Sir Henry Lee is keeper of Woodstock Park, 
 with right of waif and stray, vert and venison, as complete as any 
 of them have to their estate — that is, if' they possess any estate but 
 what they have gained by plundering honest men. Nevertheless, 
 he will give place to those who have made their might their right, 
 and will not expose the lives of good and true men, where the odds 
 are so much against them. And he protests that he makes this 
 surrender, neither as acknowledging of these so termed Com- 
 missioners, nor as for his own individual part fearing their force, 
 but purely to avoid the loss of English blood, of which so much 
 hath been spilt in these late times." 
 
 " It is well spoken," said the steward of the Commissioners ; 
 " and therefore, I pray you, let us walk together into the house, 
 that thou mayest deliver up unto me the vessels, and gold and 
 silver ornaments, belonging unto the Egyptian Pharaoh who 
 committed them to thy keeping." 
 
 " What vessels ? " exclaimed the fiery old knight ; " and belong- 
 ing to whom ? Unbaptised dog, speak civil of the Martyr in my 
 presence; or I wiU do a deed misbecoming of me on that caitiff 
 
WOODSTOCK. S9 
 
 corpse of thine ! " — And shaking his daugnter from his right arm, 
 the old man laid his hand on his rapier. 
 
 His antagonist, on the contrary, kept his temper completely, and 
 waving his hand to add impression to his speech, he said, with a 
 calmness which aggravated Sir Henry's wrath, " Nay, good friend, 
 I prithee be still, and brawl not — it becomes not grey hairs and 
 feeble arms to rail and rant like drunkards. Put me not to use 
 the carnal weapon in mine own defence, but listen to the voice of 
 reason. Seest thou not that the Lord hath decided this great con- 
 troversy in favour of us and ours, against thee and thine ? Where- 
 fore render up thy stewardship peacefully, and deliver up to me the 
 chattels of the Man, Charles Stewart." 
 
 " Patience is a good nag, but she will bolt," said the knight, 
 unable longer to rein in his wrath. He plucked his sheathed 
 rapier from his side, struck the soldier a severe blow with it, and 
 instantly drawing it, and throwing the scabbard over the trees, 
 placed himself in a posture of defence, with his sword's point within 
 half a yard of the steward's body. The latter stepped back with 
 activity, threw his long cloak from his shoulders, and drawing his 
 long tuck, stood upon his guard. The swords clashed smartly 
 together, while Alice, in her terror, screamed wildly for assistance. 
 But the combat was of short duration. The old cavalier had 
 attacked a man as cunning of fence as he himself, or a little more 
 so, and possessing all the strength and activity of which time had 
 deprived Sir Henry, and the calmness which the other had lost in his 
 passion. They had scarce exchanged three passes ere the sword of 
 the knight flew up in the air, as if it had gone in search of the 
 scabbard ; and, burning with shame and anger, Sir Henry stood 
 disarmed, at the mercy of his antagonist. The republican showed no 
 purpose of abusing his victory ; nor did he, either during the combat, 
 or after the victory was won, in any respect alter the sour and 
 grave composure which reigned upon his countenance — a combat 
 of Ufe and death seemed to him a thing as familiar, and as little to 
 be feared, as an ordinary bout with foils. 
 
 " Thou art delivered into my hands," he said, " and by the law of 
 arms I might smite thee under the fifth rib, even as Asahel was 
 struck dead by Abner, the son of Ner, as he followed the chase on 
 the hill of Ammah, that lieth before Giah, in the way of the wilder- 
 ness of Gibeon ; but far be it from me to spill thy remaining drops 
 of blood. True it is, thou art the captive of my sword and of my 
 spear ; nevertheless, seeing that there may be a turning from thine 
 evil ways, and a returning to those which are good, if the Lord 
 enlarge thy date for repentance and amendment, wherefore should 
 it be shortened by a poor sinful mortal, who is, speaking truly, but 
 thy fellow worm .■' " 
 
6o WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Sir Henry Lee remained still confused, and unable to answer, 
 when there arrived a fourth person, whom the cries of Alice had 
 summoned to the spot. This was Joceline Joliffe, one of the under- 
 keepers of the walk, who, seeing how matters stood, brandished his 
 quarterstaff, a weapon from which he never parted, and having 
 made it describe the figure of eight in a flourish through the air, 
 would have brought it down with a vengeance upon the head of the 
 steward, had not Sir Henry interposed. 
 
 " We must trail bats now, Joceline — our time of shouldering them 
 is past. It skills not striving against the stream — the devil rules 
 the roast, and makes our slaves our tutors." 
 
 At this moment another auxiliary rushed out of the thicket to 
 the knight's assistance. It was a large wolf-dog, in strength a 
 mastiff, in form and almost in fleetness a greyhound. Bevis was 
 the noblest of the kind which ever pulled down a stag, tawny- 
 coloured like a lion, with a black muzzle and black feet, just edged 
 with a line of white round the toes. He was as tractable a she was 
 strong and bold. Just as he was about to rush upon the soldier, 
 the words, " Peace, Bevis ! " from Sir Henry, converted the lion 
 into a lamb, and, instead of pulling the soldier down, he walked 
 round and round, and snuffed, as if using all his sagacity to dis- 
 cover who the stranger could be, towards whom, though of so 
 questionable an appearance, he was enjoined forbearance. Appa- 
 rently he was satisfied, for he laid aside his doubtful and threaten- 
 ing demonstrations, lowered his ears, smoothed down his bristles, 
 and wagged his tail. 
 
 Sir Henry, who had great respect for the sagacity of his favourite, 
 said in a low voice to Alice, " Bevis is of thy opinion, and counsels 
 submission. There is the finger of Heaven in this to punish the 
 pride, ever the fault of our house. — Friend," he continued, address- 
 ing the soldier, "thou hast given the finishing touch to' a lesson, 
 which ten years of constant misfortune have been unable fully to 
 teach me. Thou hast distinctly shown me the folly of thinking 
 that a good cause can strengthen a weak arm. God forgive me for 
 the thought, but I could almost turn infidel, and believe that 
 Heaven's blessing goes ever with the longest sword ; but it will 
 not be always thus. God knows his time. — Reach me my Toledo, 
 Joceline, yonder it lies ; and the scabbard, see where it hangs on 
 the tree. — Do not pull at my cloak, Alice, ahd look so miserably 
 frightened ; \l shall be in no hurry to betake me to bright steel 
 again, I promise thee.— For thee, good fellow, I thank thee, and 
 will make way for thy masters without farther dispute or ceremony. 
 Joceline Joliffe is nearer thy degree than I am, and will make sur- 
 render to thee of the Lodge and household stuff.— Withhold 
 nothing, Joliffe— let them have all. For me, I will never cross the 
 
WOODSTOCK. 6i 
 
 threshold again— but where to rest for a night ? I would trouble 
 no one in Woodstock — hum — ay — it shall be so. Alice and I, 
 Joceline, will go down to thy hut by Rosamond's Well ; we will 
 borrow the shelter of thy roof for one night at least ; thou wilt give 
 us welcome, wilt thou not? — How now — a clouded brow .■"' 
 
 Joceline certainly looked embarrassed, directed first a glance to 
 Alice, then looked to heaven, then to earth, and last to the four 
 quarters of the horizon, and then murmured out, " Certainly — 
 without question — might he but run down to put the house in 
 order." 
 
 " Order enough — order enough — for those that may soon be glad 
 of clean straw in a barn," said the knight ; " but if thou hast an 
 ill-will to harbour any obnoxious or malignant persons, as the 
 phrase goes, never shame to speak it out, man. 'Tis true, I took 
 thee up when thou wert but a ragged Robin,* made a keeper of 
 thee, and so forth. What of that ? Sailors think no longer of 
 the wind than when it forwards them on the voyage — thy betters 
 turn with the tide, why should not such a poor knave as thou ? " 
 
 " God pardon your honour for your harsh judgment !." said 
 Joliffe. " The hut is yours, such as it is, and should be were it a 
 king's palace, as I wish it were, even for your honour's sake, and 
 Mistress Alice's — only I could wish your honour would conde- 
 scend to let me step down before, in case any neighbour be there 
 — or — or— just to put matters something into order for Mistress 
 Alice and your honour — just to make things something seemly and 
 shapely." 
 
 " Not a whit necessary," said the knight, while Alice had much 
 trouble in concealing her agitation. " If thy matters are unseemly, 
 they are fitter for a defeated knight — if they are unshapely, why, 
 the liker to the rest of a world, which is all unshaped. Go thou 
 with that man. — What is thy name, friend ?" 
 
 " Joseph Tomkins is my name in the flesh," said the Steward, 
 " Men caU me honest Joe, and Trusty Tomkins." 
 
 " If thou hast deserved such names, considering what trade thou 
 hast driven, thou art a jewel indeed," said the knight ; " yet if thou 
 hast not, never blush for the matter, Joseph, for if thou art not in 
 truth honest, thou hast all the better chance to keep the fame of it 
 — the title and the thing itself have long walked separate ways. 
 Farewell to thee, — and farewell to fair Woodstock ! " 
 
 So saying, the old knight turned round, and, pulling his daugh- 
 ter's arm through his own, they walked onward into the forest, in 
 the same manner in which they were introduced to the reader. 
 
62 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Now, ye wild blades, that make loose inns your stage, 
 To vapour forth the acts of this sad age, 
 Stout Edgehill fight, the Newberries and the West, 
 And northern clashes, where you stiU fought best ; 
 Your strange escapes, your dangers void of fear. 
 When bullets flew between the head and ear, 
 Whether you fought by Damme or the Spirit, 
 Of you I speak. 
 
 Legend of Captain jfones, 
 
 Joseph Tomkins and Joliffe the keeper remained for some time 
 in silence, as they stood together looking along the path in which 
 the figures of the Knight of Ditchley and pretty Mistress Alice 
 had disappeared behind the trees. They then gazed on each other 
 in doubt, as men who scarce knew whether they stood on hostile or 
 on friendly terms together, and were at a loss how to open a con- 
 versation. They heard the knight's whistle summon Bevis ; but 
 though the good hound turned his head and pricked his ears at the 
 sound, yet he did not obey the call, but continued to snuff around 
 Joseph Tomkins's cloak. 
 
 " Thou art a rare one, I fear me," said the keeper, looking to his 
 new acquaintance. " I have heard of men who have charms to 
 steal both dogs and deer." 
 
 " Trouble not thyself about my qualities, friend," said Joseph 
 Tomkins, " but bethink thee of doing thy master's bidding." 
 
 Joceline did not immediately answer, but at length, as if in sign 
 of truce, stuck the end of his quarterstaff upright in the ground, 
 and leant upon it as he said grufHy, — " So, my tough old knight 
 and you were at drawn bilbo, by way of afternoon service, sir 
 preacher — ^WeU for you I came not up till the blades were done 
 jingling, or I had rung even-song upon your pate." 
 
 The Independent smiled grimly as he replied, " Nay, friend, it is 
 well for thyself, for never should sexton have been better paid for 
 the knell he tolled. Nevertheless, why should there be war betwixt 
 us, or my hand be against thine ? Thou art but a poor knave, 
 doing thy master's order, nor have I any desire that my own blood 
 or thine should be shed touching this matter. Thou art, I under- 
 stand, to give me peaceful possession of the Palace of Woodstock, 
 so called — though there is now no palace in England, no, nor shall 
 be in the days that come after, until we shall enter the palace of 
 the New Jerusalem, and the reign of the Saints shall commence on 
 earth." 
 
 " Pretty well begun already, friend Tomkins," said the keeper ; 
 
WOODSTOCK. 63 
 
 " you are little short of being kings already upon the matter as it 
 now stands ; and for your Jerusalem I wot not, but Woodstock is a 
 pretty nest-egg to begin with. — Well, will you shog — will you on — 
 will you take sasine and livery ? — you heard my orders." 
 
 " Umph — I know not," said Tomkins. " I must beware of am- 
 buscades, and I am alone here. Moreover, it is the High Thanks- 
 giving appointed by Parliament, and owned to by the army — also 
 the old man and the young woman may want to recover some of 
 their clothes and personal property, and I would not that they were 
 baulked on my account. Wherefore, if thou wilt deliver me pos- 
 session to-morrow morning, it shall be done in personal presence of 
 my own followers, and of the Presbyterian man the Mayor, so that 
 the transfer may be made before witnesses ; whereas, were there 
 none with us but thou to deliver, and I to take possession, the men 
 of Belial might say. Go to. Trusty Tomkins hath been an Edomite 
 — Honest Joe hath been as an Ishmaelite, rising up early and 
 dividing the spoil with them that served the Man — yea, they that 
 wore beards and green jerkins, as in remembrance of the Man and 
 of his government." 
 
 Joceline fixed his keen dark eyes upon the soldier as he spoke, 
 as if in design to discover whether there was fair play in his mind 
 or not. He then applied his five fingers to scratch a large shock 
 head of hair, as if that operation was necessary to enable him to 
 come to a conclusion. " This is all fair sounding, brother," said 
 he ; " but I tell you plainly, there are some silver mugs, and 
 platters, and flagons, and so forth, in yonder house, which have 
 survived the general sweep that sent all our plate to the smelting- 
 pot, to put our knight's troop on horseback. Now, if thou takest 
 not these off my hand, I may come to trouble, since it may be 
 thought I have minished their numbers. — Whereas, I being as 
 honest a fellow " 
 
 " As ever stole venison," said Tomkins — " nay, I do owe thee an 
 interruption." 
 
 " Go to, then," replied the keeper ; " if a stag may have come to 
 mischance in my walk, it was no way in the course of dishonesty, 
 but merely to keep my old dame's pan from rusting ; but for silver 
 porringers, tankards, and such like, I would as soon have drunk the 
 melted silver, as stolen the vessel made out of it. So that I would 
 not wish blame or suspicion fell on me in this matter. And there- 
 fore, if you will have the things rendered even now, — why so^and 
 if not, hold me blameless." 
 
 " Ay, truly ? " said Tomkins ; " and who is to hold me blameless, 
 if they should see cause to think any thing minished ? Not the 
 right worshipful Commissioners, to whom the property of the estate 
 is as their own ; therefore, as thou say'st, we must walk warily in 
 
64 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the matter. To lock up the house and leave it, were but the work 
 of simple ones. What say'st thou to spend the night there, and 
 then nothing can be touched without the knowledge of us 
 both?" 
 
 " Why, concerning that," answered the keeper, " I should be at 
 my hut to make matters somewhat conformable for the old knight 
 and Mistress Alice, for my old dame Joan is something dunny, and 
 will scarce know how to manage — and yet, to speak the truth, by 
 the mass I would rather not see Sir Henry to-night, since what has 
 happened to-day hath roused his spleen, and it is a peradventure 
 he may have met something at the hut which will scarce tend to 
 cool it." 
 
 " It is a pity," said Tomkins, " that, being a gentleman of such 
 grave and goodly presence, he should be such a malignant cavalier, 
 and that he should, like the rest of that generation of vipers, have 
 clothed himself with curses as with a garment." 
 
 " Which is as much as to say, the tough old knight hath a habit 
 of swearing," said the keeper, grinning at a pun, which has been 
 repeated since his time ; " but who can help it ? it comes of use 
 and wont. Were you now, in your bodily self, to light suddenly on 
 a Maypole, with all the blithe morris-dancers prancing around it to 
 the merry pipe and tabor, with bells jingling, ribands fluttering, 
 lads frisking and laughing, lasses leaping till you might see where 
 the scarlet garter fastened the light-blue hose, I think some feeling, 
 resembling either natural sociality, or old use and wont, would get 
 the better, friend, even of thy gravity, and thou wouldst fling thy 
 cuckoldy steeple-hat one way, and that blood-thirsty long sword 
 another, and trip, like the noodles of Hogs-Norton, when the pigs 
 play on the organ." 
 
 The Independent turned fiercely round on the keeper, and re- 
 plied, " How now, Mr. Green Jerkin ? what language is this to one 
 whose hand is at the plough ? I advise thee to put curb on thy 
 tongue, lest thy ribs pay the forfeit." 
 
 " Nay, do not take the high tone with me, brother," answered 
 Joceline ; " remember thou hast not the old knight of sixty-five to 
 deal with, but a fellow as bitter and prompt as thyself — it maybe a 
 little more so — younger, at all events — and prithee, why shouldst 
 thou take such umbrage at a Maypole ? I would thou hadst known 
 one Phil Hazeldine of these parts— He was the best morris-dancer 
 betwixt Oxford and Burford." 
 
 " The more shame to him," answered the Independent ; " and I 
 trust he has seen the error of his ways, and made himself (as, if a 
 man of action, he easily might) fit for better company than wood- 
 hunters, deer-stealers. Maid Marions, swash-bucklers, deboshed 
 revellers, bloody-brawlers, maskers and mummers, lewd men and 
 
woonsTOCK. 6s 
 
 light women, fools and fiddlers, and carnal self-pleasers of every 
 description." 
 
 " Well," replied the keeper, " you are out of breath in time ; for 
 here we stand before the famous Maypole of Woodstock." 
 
 They paused in an open space of meadow-land, beautifully skirted 
 by large oaks and sycamores, one of which, as king of the forest, 
 stood a little detached from the rest, as if scorning the vicinity of 
 any rival. It was scathed and gnarled in the branches, but the 
 immense trunk still' showed to what gigantic size the monarch of 
 the forest can attain in the groves of merry England. 
 
 " That is called the King's oak," said Joceline ; " the oldest men 
 of Woodstock know not how old it is ; they say Henry used to sit 
 under it with fair Rosamond, and see the lasses dance, and the lads 
 of the village run races, and wrestle for belts or bonnets." 
 
 " I nothing doubt it, friend," said Tomkins ; " a tyrant and a 
 harlot were fitting patron and patroness for such vanities." 
 
 " Thou mayst say thy say, friend," replied the keeper, " so thou 
 lettest me say mine. There stands the Maypole, as thou seest, half 
 a flight-shot from the King's Oak, in the midst of the meadow. The 
 King gave ten shillings from the customs of Woodstock to make a 
 new one yearly, besides a tree fitted for the purpose out of the forest. 
 Now it is warped, and withered, and twisted, like a wasted brier- 
 rod. The green, too, used to be close-shaved, and rolled till it was 
 smooth as a velvet mantle—now it is rough and overgrown." 
 
 " Well, well, friend Joceline," said the Independent, " but where 
 was the edification of all this? — what use of doctrine could be 
 derived from a pipe and tabor ? or was there ever aught like wisdom 
 in a bagpipe ? " 
 
 " You may ask better scholars that," said Joceline ; " but methinks 
 men cannot be always grave, and with the hat over their brow. A 
 young maiden will laugh as a tender flower will blow — ay, and a 
 lad will like her the better for it ; just as the same blithe Spring 
 that makes the young birds whistle, bids the bhthe fawns skip. 
 There have come worse days since the jolly old times have gone 
 by :— I tell thee, that in the holydays which you, Mr. Longsword, 
 have put down, I have seen this greensward alive with merry 
 maidens and manly fellows. The good old rector himself thought 
 it was no sin to come for awhile and look on, and his goodly cas- 
 sock and scarf kept us all in good order, and taught us to limit our 
 mirth within the bounds of discretion. We might, it may be, crack 
 a broad jest, or pledge a friendly cup a turn too often, but it was in 
 mirth and good neighbourhood — Ay, and if there was a bout at 
 single-stick, or a bellyful of boxing, it was all for love and kindness ; 
 and better a few dry blows in drink, than the bloody doings we have 
 had in sober earnest, since the presbyter's cap got above the 
 
 F 
 
66 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 bishop's mitre, and we exchanged our goodly rectors and learned 
 doctors, whose sermons were all bolstered up with as much Greek 
 and Latin as might have confounded the devil himself, for weavers 
 and cobblers, and such other pulpit volunteers, as— as we heard 
 this morning — It will out." 
 
 " Well, friend," said the Independent, with patience scarcely to 
 have been expected, " I quarrel not with thee for nauseating my 
 doctrine. If thine ear is so much tickled with tabor tunes and 
 morris tripping, truly it is not likely thou shouldst iind pleasant 
 savour in more wholesome and sober food. — But let us to the 
 Lodge, that we may go about our business there before the sun 
 sets." 
 
 " Troth, and that may be advisable for more reasons than one," 
 said the keeper ; " for there have been tales about the Lodge which 
 have made men afeard to harbour there after nightfall." 
 
 " Were not yon old knight, and yonder damsel his daughter, 
 wont to dwell there ? " said the Independent. " My information 
 said so." 
 
 " Ay, truly did they," said Joceline ; " and while they kept a jolly 
 household, all went well enough ; for nothing banishes fear like 
 good ale. But after the best of our men went to the wars, and 
 were slain at Naseby fight, they who were left found the Lodge 
 more lonesome, and the old knight has been much deserted of his 
 servants : — marry, it might be, that he has lacked silver of late to 
 pay groom and lackey." 
 
 " A potential reason for the diminution of a household," said the 
 soldier. 
 
 " Right, sir, even so," replied the keeper. " They spoke of steps 
 in the great galler)-, heard by dead of the night, and voices that 
 whispered at noon in the matted chambers ; and the servants pre- 
 tended that these things scared them away ; but in my poor judg- 
 ment, when Martinmas and Whitsuntide came round without a 
 penny-fee, the old blue-bottles of serving-men began to think of 
 creeping elsewhere before the frost chilled them — No devil so 
 frightful as that which dances in the pocket where, there is no cross 
 to keep him out." 
 
 "You were reduced, then, to a petty household?" said the 
 Independent. 
 
 " Ay, marry, were we," said Joceline ; " but we kept some half- 
 score together, what with blue-bottles in the Lodge, what with green 
 caterpillars of the chase, like him who is yours to command ; we 
 stuck together till we found a call to take a morning's ride some- 
 where or other." 
 
 " To the town of Worcester," said the soldier, " where you were 
 crushed like vermin and paiHier worms, as you are ? " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 67 
 
 " You may say your pleasure," replied the keeper ; " I'll never 
 contradict a man who has got my head under his belt. Our backs 
 are at the wall, or you would not be here." 
 
 " Nay, friend," said the Independent, " thou riskest nothing by 
 thy freedom and trust in me. I can be bon camarado to a good 
 soldier, although I have striven with him even to the going down of 
 the sun. — But here we are in front of the Lodge;" 
 
 They stood accordingly in front of the old Gothic building, 
 irregularly constructed, and at different times, as the humour of 
 the English monarchs led them to taste the pleasures of Woodstock 
 Chase, and to make such improvements for their own accommoda- 
 tion as the increasing luxury of each age required. The oldest part 
 of the structure had been named by tradition Fair Rosamond's 
 Tower ; it was a small turret of great height, with narrow windows, 
 and walls of massive thickness. The tower had no opening to the 
 ground, or means of descending, a great part of the lower portion 
 being solid mason-work. It was traditionally said to have been 
 accessible only by a sort of small drawbridge, which might be 
 dropped at pleasure from a little portal near the summit of the 
 turret, to the battlements of another tower of the same construction, 
 but twenty feet lower, and containing only a winding staircase, 
 called in Woodstock Love's Ladder ; because it is said, that by 
 ascending this staircase to the top of the tower, and then making 
 use of the drawbridge, Henry obtained access to the chamber of 
 his paramour. 
 
 This tradition had been keenly impugned by Dr. Rochecliffe, the 
 former rector of Woodstock, who insisted, that what was called 
 Rosamond's Tower, was merely an interior keep, or citadel, to 
 which the lord or warden of the castle might retreat, when other 
 points of safety failed him ; and either protract his defence, or, at 
 the worst, stipulate for reasonable terms of surrender. The people 
 of Woodstock, jealous of their ancient traditions, did not relish this 
 new mode of explaining them away ; and it is even said, that the 
 Mayor, whom we have already introduced, became Presbyterian, 
 in revenge of the doubts cast by the rector upon this important 
 subject, rather choosing to give up the Liturgy than his fixed belief 
 in Rosamond's Tower, and Love's Ladder. 
 
 The rest of the Lodge was of considerable extent, and of different 
 ages ; comprehending a nest of little courts, surrounded by build- 
 ings which corresponded 'with each other, sometimes within-doors, 
 sometimes by crossing the courts, and frequently in both ways. 
 The different heights of the buildings announced that they could 
 only be connected by the usual variety of staircases, which exer- 
 cised the limbs of our ancestors in the sixteenth and earlier cen- 
 turies, and seem sometimes to have been contrived for no other 
 purpose, F 3 
 
68 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 The varied and multiplied fronts of this irregular building were, 
 as Dr. Rochecliffe was wont to say, an absolute banquet to the 
 architectural antiquary, as they certainly contained specimens of 
 every style which existed, from the pure Norman of Henry of Anjou, 
 down to the composite, half Gothic half classical architecture of 
 Elizabeth and her successor. Accordinglj', the rector was himself 
 as much enamoured of Woodstock as ever was Henry of Fair 
 Rosamond ; and as his intimacy with Sir Henry Lee permitted 
 him entrance at all times to the Royal Lodge, he used to spend 
 whole days in wandering about the antique apartments, examining, 
 measuring, studying, and iinding out excellent reasons for architec- 
 tural peculiarities, which probably only owed their existence to the 
 freakish fancy of a Gothic artist. But the old antiquarian had been 
 expelled from his living by the intolerance and troubles of the times, 
 and his successor, Nehemiah Holdenough, would have considered 
 an elaborate investigation of the profane sculpture and architecture 
 of blinded and blood-thirsty Papists, together with the history of 
 the dissolute amours of old Norman monarchs, as little better 
 than a bowing down before the calves of Bethel, and a drinking 
 of the cup of abominations. — We return to the course of our story. 
 
 "" There is," said the Independent Tomkins, after he had carefully 
 perused the front of the building, " many a rare monument of olden 
 wickedness about this miscalled Royal Lodge ; verily, I shall rejoice 
 much to see the same destroyed, yea, burned to ashes, and the 
 ashes thrown into the brook Kedron, or any other brook, that the 
 land may be cleansed from the memory thereof, neither remember 
 the iniquity with which their fathers have sinned." 
 
 The keeper heard him with secret indignation, and began to 
 consider with himself, whether, as they stood but one to one, and 
 without chance of speedy interference, he was not called upon, by 
 his official duty, to castigate the rebel who used language so defa- 
 matory. But he fortunately recollected, that the strife must be a 
 doubtful one — that the advantage of arms was against him— and 
 that, in especial, even if he should succeed in the combat, it would 
 be at the risk of severe retaliation. It must be owned, too, that 
 there was something about the Independent so dark and mysterious, 
 so grim and grave, that the more open spirit of the keeper felt 
 oppressed, and, if not overawed, at least kept in doubt concerning' 
 him ; and he thought it wisest, as well as safest, for his master and 
 himself, to avoid all subjects of dispute, and know better with 
 whom he was dealing, before he made either friend or enemy of him. 
 
 The great gate of the Lodge was strongly bolted, but the wicket 
 opened on Joceline's raising the latch. There was a short passage 
 of ten feet, which had been formerly closed by a portcullis at the 
 inner end, while three loopholes opened on either side, througli 
 
WOODSTOCK. 69 
 
 which any daring intruder niight be annoyed, who, having surprised 
 the first gate, must be thus exposed to a severe fire before he could 
 force the second. But the machinery of the portcullis was damaged, 
 and it now remained a fixture, brandishing its jaw, well furnished 
 with iron fangs, but incapable of dropping it across the path of 
 invasion. 
 
 The way, therefore, lay open to the great hall or outer vestibule 
 of the Lodge. One end of this long and dusky apartment was 
 entirely occupied by a gallery, which had in ancient times served 
 to accommodate the musicians and minstrels. There was a clumsy 
 staircase at either side of it, composed of entire logs of a foot 
 square ; and in each angle of the ascent was placed, by way of 
 sentinel, the figure of a Norman foot-soldier, having an open casque 
 on his head, which displayed features as stern as the painter's 
 genius could devise. Their arms were buff-jackets, or shirts of 
 mail, round bucklers, with spikes in the centre, and buskins which 
 adorned and defended the feet and ankles, but left the knees bare. 
 These wooden warders held great swords, or maces, in their hands, 
 like military guards on duty. Many an empty hook and brace, 
 along the walls of the gloomy apartment, marked the spots from 
 which arms, long preserved as trophies, had been, in the pressure 
 of the war, once more taken down to do service in the field, like 
 veterans whom extremity of danger recalls to battle. On other 
 rusty fastenings were still displayed the hunting trophies of the 
 monarchs to whom the Lodge belonged, and of the silvan knights 
 to whose care it had been from time to time confided. 
 
 At the nether end of the hall, a huge, heavy, stone-wrought 
 chimney-piece projected itself ten feet from the wall, adorned with 
 many a cipher, and many a scutcheon of the Royal House of 
 England. In its present state, it yawned like the arched mouth of 
 a funeral vault, or perhaps might be compared to the crater of an 
 extinguished volcano. But the sable complexion of the massive 
 stone-work, and all around it, showed that the time had been when 
 it sent its huge fires blazing up the huge chimney, besides puffing 
 many a volume of smoke over the heads of the jovial guests, 
 whose royalty or nobility did not render them sensitive enough to 
 quarrel with such a slight inconvenience. On these occasions, it 
 was the tradition of the house, that two cart-loads of wood was 
 the regular allowance for the fire between noon and curfew, and the 
 andirons, or dogs, as they were termed, constructed for retaining 
 the blazing firewood on the hearth, were wrought in the shape of 
 lions of such gigantic size, as might well warrant the legend. 
 There were long seats of stone within the chimney, where, in 
 despite of the tremendous heat, monarchs were sometimes said to 
 have taken their station, and amused themselves with broiling the 
 
70 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 umhles, or dowsets, of the deer, upon the glowing embers, with 
 their own royal hands, when happy the courtier who was invited to 
 taste the royal cookery. Tradition was here also ready with her 
 record, to show what merry gibes, such as might be exchanged 
 between prince and peer, had flown about at the jolly banquet 
 which followed the Michaelmas hunt. She could tell, too, exactly, 
 where King Stephen sat when he darned his own princely hose, 
 and knew most of the old tricks he had put upon little Winkin, the 
 tailor of Woodstock. 
 
 Most of this rude revelry belonged to the Plantagenet times. 
 When the house of Tudor acceded to the throne, they were more 
 chary of their royal presence, and feasted in halls and chambers 
 far within, abandoning the outmost hall to the yeomen of the 
 guard, who mounted their watch there, and passed away the night 
 with wassail and mirth, exchanged sometimes for frightful tales of 
 apparitions and sorceries, which made some of those grow pale, 
 in whose ears the trumpet of a French foeman would have sounded 
 as joUily as a summons to the woodland chase. 
 
 Joceline pointed out the peculiarities of the place to his gloomy 
 companion more briefly than we have detailed them to the reader. 
 The Independent seemed to listen with some interest at first, but, 
 flinging it suddenly aside, he said, in a solemn tone, " Perish, 
 Babylon, as thy master Nebuchadnezzar hath perished ! He is a 
 wanderer, and thou shalt be a waste place — yea, and a wilder- 
 ness — yea, a desert of salt, in which there shall be thirst and 
 famine." 
 
 " There is like to be enough of both to-night," said Jocehne, 
 "unless the good luiight's larder be somewhat fuller than it is' 
 wont." 
 
 " We must care for the creature comforts," said the Independent, 
 "but in due season, when our duties are done. — Whither lead these 
 entrances .'' " 
 
 " That to the right," repUed the keeper, "leads to what are called 
 the state-apartments, not used since the year sixteen hundred and 
 thirty-nine, when his blessed Majesty " 
 
 " How, sir ! " interrupted the Independent, in a voice of 
 thunder, "dost thou speak of Charles Stewart, as blessing or 
 blessed .? — beware the proclamation to that effect." 
 
 " I meant no harm," answered the keeper, suppressing his dispo- 
 sition to make a harsher reply. " My business is with bolts and 
 bucks, not with titles and state affairs. But yet, whatever may 
 have happed since, that poor King was followed with blessings 
 enough from Woodstock ; for he left a glove full of broad pieces 
 for the poor of the place " 
 
 •" Peace, friend," said the Independent ; " I will think thee else 
 
WOODSTOCK. 71 
 
 one of those besotted and blinded Papists, who hold, that be- 
 stowing of alms is an atonement and washing away of the 
 wrongs and oppressions which have been wrought by the alms- 
 giver. Thou sayest, then, these were the apartments of Charles 
 Stewart?" 
 
 "And of his father, James, before him, and Elizabeth before 
 him, and bluff King Henry, who builded that wing, before them 
 all." 
 
 " And there, I suppose, the knight and his daughter dwelt ? " 
 
 " No," replied Joceline ; " Sir Henry Lee had too much rever- 
 ence for — for things which are now thought worth no reverence at 
 all — Besides, the state-rooms are unaired, and in indifferent order, 
 since of late years. The Knight Ranger's apartment lies by that 
 passage to the left." 
 
 "And whither goes yonder stair, which seems both to lead 
 upwards and downwards? " 
 
 " Upwards," replied the keeper, " it leads to many apartments, 
 used for various purposes, of sleeping, and other accommodation. 
 Downwards, to the kitchen, offices and vaults of the castle, 
 which, at this time of the evening, you cannot see without 
 lights." 
 
 " We will to the apartments of your knight, then," said the 
 Independent. " Is there fitting accommodation there ? 
 
 " Such as has served a person of condition, whose lodging is 
 now worse.appointed," answered the honest keeper, his bile rising 
 so fast that he added, in a muttering and inaudible tone, " so it 
 may well serve a crop-eared knave like thee." 
 
 He acted as the usher, however, and led on towards the ranger's 
 apartments. 
 
 This suite opened by a short passage from the hall, secured at 
 time of need by two oaken doors, which could be fastened by large 
 bars of the same, that were drawn out of the wall, and entered 
 into square holes, contrived for their reception on the other side 
 of the portal. At the end of this passage, a small anteroom 
 received them, into which opened the sitting appartment of the 
 good knight — which, in the style of the times, might have been 
 termed a fair summer parlour — lighted by two oriel windows, so 
 placed as to command each of them a separate avenue, leading 
 distant and deep into the forest. The principal ornament of the 
 apartment, besides two or three family portraits of less interest, 
 was a tall, full-length picture, that hung above the chiraney-piece, 
 which, like that in the hall, was of heavy stone-work, ornamented 
 with carved scutcheons, emblazoned with various devices. The 
 portrait was that of a man about fifty years of age, in complete 
 plate armour, and painted in the harsh dry manner of Holbein — 
 
73 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 probably, indeed, the work of that artist, as the dates corre- 
 sponded. The formal and marked angles, points, and projections 
 of the armour, were a good subject for the harsh pencil of that 
 early school. The face of the knight was, from the fading of the 
 colours, pale and dim, like that of some being from the other 
 world, yet the lines expressed forcibly pride and exultation. 
 
 He pointed with his leading-staff, or truncheon, to the back- 
 ground, where, in such perspective as the artist possessed, were 
 depicted the remains of a burning church, or monastery, and 
 four or five soldiers, in red cassocks, bearing away in triumph 
 what seemed a brazen font or laver. Above their heads might be 
 traced in scroll, '■'■Lee Victor sic voluit." Right opposite to the 
 picture, hung, in a niche in the wall, a complete set of tilting 
 armour, the black and gold colours, and ornaments of which, 
 exactly corresponded with those exhibited in the portrait. 
 
 The picture was one of those which, from something marked in 
 the features and expression, attract the observation even of thpse 
 who are ignorant of art. The Independent looked at it until a 
 smile passed transiently over his clouded brow. Whether he 
 smiled to see the grim old cavalier employed in desecrating a 
 religious house — (an occupation much conforming to the practice 
 of his own sect) — whether he smiled in contempt of the old 
 painter's harsh and dry mode of working — or whether the sight 
 of this remarkable portrait revived some other ideas, the under- 
 keeper could not decide. 
 
 The smile passed away in an instant, as the soldier looked to 
 the oriel windows. The recesses within them were raised a step 
 tr two from the wall. In one was placed a walnut-tree reading- 
 desk, and a huge stuffed arm-chair, covered with Spanish leather. 
 A little cabinet stood beside, with some of its shuttles and drawers 
 open, displaying hawks-bells, dog-whistles, instruments for trimming 
 falcon's feathers, bridle-bits of various constructions, and other 
 trifles connected with silvan sport. 
 
 The other little recess was differently furnished. There lay 
 some articles of needle-work on a small table, besides a lute, with 
 a book having some airs written down in it, and a frame for work- 
 ing embroidery. Some tapestry was displayed around the recess, 
 with more attention to ornament than was visible in the rest of 
 the apartment ; the arrangement of a few bow-pots, with such 
 flowers as the fading season afforded, showed also the superintend- 
 ence of female taste. 
 
 Tomkins cast an eye of careless regard upon these subjects 
 of female occupation, then stepped into the farther window, 
 and began to turn the leaves of a folio, which lay open on the 
 reading-desk, apparently with some interest. Joceline who had 
 
WOODSTOCK. 73 
 
 determined to watch his motions without interfering with them, 
 was standing at some distance in dejected silence, when 'a door 
 behind the tapestry suddenly opened, and a pretty village maid 
 tripped out with a napkin in her hand, as if she had been about 
 some household duty. 
 
 "How now, Sir Impudence?" she said to Joceline, in a smart 
 tone ; " what do you here prowling about the apartments when the 
 master is not at home ? " 
 
 But instead of the answer which perhaps she expected, Joceline 
 Joliffe cast a mournful glance towards the soldier in the oriel 
 window, as if to make what he said fully intelligible, and replied 
 with a dejected appearance and voice, " Alack, my pretty Phoebe, 
 there come those here that have more right or might than any of 
 us, and will use little ceremony in coming when they will, and 
 staying while they please." 
 
 He darted another glance at Tomkins, who still seemed busy 
 with the book before him, then sidled close to the astonished girl, 
 who had continued looking alternately at the keeper and at the 
 stranger, as if she had been unable to understand the words 
 of the first, or to comprehend the meaning of the second being 
 present. 
 
 " Go," whispered Joliffe, approaching his mouth so near her 
 ■cheek, that his breath waved the curls of her hair ; " go, my dearest 
 Phoebe, trip it as fast as a fawn down to my lodge — I will soon be 
 there, and " 
 
 "Your lodge, indeed"!" said Phoebe ; "you are very bold, for a 
 poor killbuck that never frightened any thing before save a dun 
 deer — Your lodge, indeed ! — I am like to go there, I think." 
 
 " Hush, hush ! Phcebe — here is no time for jesting. Down to 
 my hut, I say, like a deer, for the knight and Mrs. Alice are both 
 there, and I fear will not return hither again. — All's naught, girl — 
 and our evil days are come at last with a vengeance — we are fairly 
 at bay and fairly hunted down." 
 
 " Can this be, Joceline ? " said the poor girl, turning to the keeper 
 with an expression of fright in her countenance, which she had 
 hitherto averted in rural coquetry. 
 
 " As sure, my dearest Phoebe, as " 
 
 The rest of the asseveration was lost in Phoebe's ear, so closely 
 did the keeper's lips approach it ; and if they approached so very 
 near as to touch her cheek, grief, like impatience, hath its privi- 
 leges, and poor Phoebe had enough of serious alarm to prevent her 
 from demurring upon such a trifle. 
 
 But no trifle was the approach of Joceline's lips to Phcebe's 
 pretty though sunburnt cheek, in the estimation of the Indepen- 
 dent, who, a little before the object of Joceline's vigilance, had 
 
74 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 been more lately in his turn the observer of the keeper's demean- 
 our, so soon as the interview betwixt Phoebe and him had become 
 so interesting. And when he remarked the closeness of Joceline's 
 argument, he raised his voice to a pitch of harshness that would 
 have rivalled that of an ungreased and rusty saw, and which at 
 once made Joceline and Phcebe spring six feet apart, each in 
 contrary directions, and if Cupid was of the party, must have sent 
 him out at the window like a wild-duck flying from a culverin. 
 Instantly throwing himself into the attitude of a preacher and a 
 reprover of vice, " How now ! " he exclaimed, " shameless and 
 impudent as you are ! — What — chambering and wantoning in our 
 very presence ! — How — would you play your pranks before the 
 steward of the Commissioners of the High Court of Parliament, 
 as ye would in a booth at the fulsome fair, or amidst the trappings 
 and tracings of a profane dancing-school, where the scoundrel 
 minstrels make their ungodly weapons to squeak, ' Kiss and be kind, 
 the fiddler's blind ? ' — But here," he said, dealing a perilous thump 
 upon the volume—" Here is the King and high priest of those 
 vices and follies ! — Here is he, whom men of folly profanely call 
 nature's miracle ! — Here is he, whom princes chose for their 
 cabinet-keeper, and whom maids of honour take for their bed- 
 fellow ! — Here is the prime teacher of fine words, foppery, and 
 folly — Here"— (dealing another thump upon the volume — and 
 oh ! revered of the Roxburghe, it was the first folio — beloved of 
 the Bannatyne, it was Hemmings and Condel — it was the editio 
 princeps) — " On thee," he continued — " on thee, William Shak- 
 speare, I charge whate'er of such lawless idleness and immodest 
 folly hath defiled the land since thy day I" 
 
 "By the mass, a heavy accusation," said Joceline, the bold 
 recklessness of whose temper could not be long overawed ; " Odds 
 pitlikins, is our master's old favourite, Will of Stratford, to answer 
 for every buss that has been snatched since James's time? — a 
 perilous reckoning truly — but I wonder who is sponsible for what 
 lads and lasses did before his day ? " 
 
 " Scoff not," said the soldier, " lest I, being called thereto by the 
 voice within me, do deal with thee as a scorner. Verily I say, that 
 since the devil fell from Heaven, he never lacked agents on earth ; 
 yet nowhere hath he met with a wizard having such infinite power 
 over men's souls as this pestilent fellow Shakspeare. Seeks a wife 
 a foul example for adultery, here she shall find it — ^Would a man 
 know how to train his fellow to be a murderer, here shall he find 
 tutoring— Would a lady marry a heathen negro, she shall have 
 chronicled example for it — Would any one scorn at his Maker, he 
 shall be furnished with a jest in this book — Would he defy his 
 brother in the flesh, he shall be accommodated with a challenge-- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 75 
 
 Would you be drunk, Shakspeare will cheer you with a cup — 
 Would you plunge in sensual pleasures, he will soothe you to in- 
 dulgence, as with the lascivious sounds of a lute. This, I say, this 
 book is the wellhead and source of all those evils which have over- 
 run the land like a torrent, making men scoffers, doubters, deniers, 
 murderers, makebates, and lovers of the wine-pot, haunting unclean 
 places, and sitting long at the evening-wine. Away with him, away 
 with him, men of England ! to Tophet with his wicked book, and 
 to the vale of Hinnom with his accursed bones ! Verily but that 
 our march was hasty when we passed Stratford, in the year 1643, 
 with Sir William Waller ; but that our march was hasty" 
 
 " Because Prince Ruipert was after you with his cavaliers," mut- 
 tered the incorrigible Joceline. 
 
 " I say," continued the zealous trooper, raising his voice and 
 extending his arm — " but that our march was by command hasty, 
 and that we turned not aside in our riding, closing our ranks each 
 one upon the other as becomes men of war, I had torn on that day 
 the bones of that preceptor of vice and debauchery from the grave, 
 and given them to the next dunghill. I would have made his 
 memory a scoff and a hissing ! " 
 
 " That is the bitterest thing he has said yet," observed the 
 keeper. " Poor Will would have liked the hissing worse than all 
 the rest." 
 
 "Will the gentleman say any more?" enquired Phoebe in a 
 whisper. " Lack-a-day, he talks brave words, if one knew but 
 what they meant. But it is a mercy our good knight did not see 
 him ruffle the book at tha.t rate — Mercy on us, there would cer- 
 tainly have been bloodshed. — But oh the father — see how he is 
 twisting his face about ! — Is he ill of the colic, think'st thou, Joce- 
 line ? Or, may I offer him a glass of strong waters ? " 
 
 " Hark thee hither, wench ! " said the keeper, " he is but loading 
 his blunderbuss for another volley ; and while he turns up his eyes, 
 and twists about his face, and clenches his fist, and shuffles and 
 tramples with his feet in that fashion, he is bound to take no' notice 
 of any thing. I would be sworn to cut his purse, if he had one, 
 from his side, without his feeling it." 
 
 " La ! Joceline," said Phcebe, " and if he abides here in this 
 turn of tinies, I dare say the gentleman will be easily served." 
 
 " Care not thou about that," said Joliffe ; " but tell me softly and 
 hastily, what is in the pantry ? " 
 
 " Small housekeeping enough," said Phoebe ; " a cold capon and 
 some comfits, and the great standing venison pasty, with plenty of 
 spice — a manchet or two besides, and that is all." 
 
 "Well, it will serve for a pinch — wrap thy cloak round thy 
 comely body — get a basket and a brace of trenchers and towels, 
 
76 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 they are heinously impoverished down yonder — carry down the 
 capon and the manchets — the pasty must abide with this same 
 soldier and me, and the pie-crust will serve us for bread." 
 
 " Rarely," said Phcebe ; " I made the paste myself— it is as 
 thick as the walls of Fair Rosamond's Tower." 
 
 " Which two pairs of jaws would be long in gnawing through, 
 work hard as they might," said the keeper. " But what liquor is 
 there?" 
 
 " Only a bottle of Alicant, and one of sack, with the stone jug of 
 strong waters," answered Phcebe. 
 
 " Put the wine-flasks into thy basket," said Joceline, " the knight 
 must not lack his evening draught — and down with thee to the hut 
 like a lapwing. There is enough for supper, and to-morrow is a 
 new day. — Ha ! by heaven I thought yonder man's eye watched 
 us— No — ^he only rolled it round him in a brown study — Deep 
 enough doubtless, as they all are. — But d — n him, he must be bot- 
 tomless if I cannot sound him before the night's out. — Hie thee 
 away, Phoebe." 
 
 But Phoebe was a rural coquette, and, aware that Joceline's 
 situation gave him no advantage of avenging the challenge in a 
 fitting way, she whispered in his ear, "Do you think our knight's 
 friend, Shakspeare,' really found out all these naughty devices the 
 gentleman spoke of?" 
 
 Off she darted while she spoke, while Joliffe menaced future 
 vengeance with his finger, as he muttered, " Go thy way, Phoebe 
 Mayflower, the lightest-footed and lightest-hearted wench that 
 ever tripped the sod in Woodstock-park ! — After her, Bevis, and 
 bring her safe to our master at the hut." 
 
 The large greyhound arose like a human servitor who had 
 received an order, and followed Phcebe through the hall, first lick- 
 ing her hand to make her sensible of his presence, and then 
 putting himself to a slow trot, so as best to accommodate himself 
 to the light pace of her whom he convoyed, whom Joceline had not 
 extolled for her activity without due reason. While Phoebe and 
 her guardian thread the forest glades, we return to the Lodge. 
 
 The Independent now seemed to start as if from a reverie. " Is 
 the young woman gone ? " said he. 
 
 "Ay, marry is she," said the keeper ; "and if your worship hath 
 farther commands, you must rest contented with male attendance." 
 
 " Commands — umph — I think the damsel might have tarried for 
 another exhortation," said the soldier — " truly, I profess my mind 
 was much inclined toward her for her edification." 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied Joliffe, " she will be at church next Sunday, 
 and if your military reverence is pleased again to hold forth 
 amongst us, she will have use of the doctrine with the rest. But 
 
WOODSTOCK. 77 
 
 young maidens of these parts hear no private homilies. — And what 
 is now your pleasure ? Will you look at the other rooms, and at 
 the few plate articles which have been left ? " 
 
 " Umph — no," said the Independent — " it wears late, and gets 
 dark — thou hast the means of giving us beds, friend?" 
 
 " Better you never slept in,"- replied the keeper. 
 
 " And wood for a fire, and a light, and some small pittance of 
 creature-comforts for refreshment of the outward man .' " continued 
 the soldier. 
 
 " Without doubt," replied the keeper, displaying a prudent 
 anxiety to gratify this important personage. 
 
 In a few minutes a great standing candlestick was placed on an 
 oaken table. The mighty venison pasty, adorned with parsley, 
 was placed on the board on a clean napkin ; the stone-bottle of 
 strong waters, with a blackjack full of ale, formed comfortable 
 appendages ; and to this meal sat down in social manner the 
 soldier, occupying a great elbow-chair, and the keeper, at his invi- 
 tation, using the more lowly accommodation of a stool, at the 
 opposite side of the table. Thus agreeably employed, our history 
 leaves them for the present. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ■ Yon path of greensward 
 
 Winds round by sparry grot and gay pavilion ; 
 There is no flint to gall thy tender foot, 
 There's ready shelter from each breeze, or shower. 
 But duty guides not that way — see her stand. 
 With wand entwined with amaranth, near yon cliffs. 
 Oft where she leads thy blood must mark thy footsteps, 
 Oft where she leads thy head must bear the storm. 
 And thy shrunk form endure heat, cold, and hunger ; 
 But she will guide thee up to noble heights. 
 Which he who gains seems native of the sky. 
 While earthly things lie stretch'd beneath his feet, 
 
 Diminish'd, shrunk, and valueless 
 
 A7tonymmis. 
 
 The reader cannot have forgotten that after his scuffle with the 
 commonwealth soldier. Sir Henry Lee, with his daughter Alice, 
 had departed to take refuge in the hut of the stout keeper Joceline 
 Joliffe. They walked slow, as before, for the old knight was at 
 once oppressed by perceiving these last vestiges of royalty fall into 
 the hands of republicans, and by the recollection of his recent 
 defeat. At times he paused, and, with his arms folded on his 
 bosom, recalled all the circumstances attending his expulsion from 
 
78 WOOBSTOCK. 
 
 a house so long his home. It seemed to him that, like the cham- 
 pions of romance of whom he had sometimes read, he himself was 
 retiring from the post which it was his duty to guard, defeated by 
 a Paynim knight, for whom the adventure had been reserved by 
 fate. Alice had her own painful subjects of recollection, nor had 
 the tenor of her last conversation with her father been so pleasant 
 as to make her anxious to renew it until his temper should be 
 more composed ; for with an excellent disposition, and much love 
 to his daughter, age and misfortunes, which of late came thicker 
 and thicker, had given to the good knight's passions a wayward 
 irritability unknown to his better days. His daughter, and one or 
 two attached servants, who still followed his decayed fortunes, 
 soothed his frailty as much as possible, and pitied him even while 
 they suffered under its effects. 
 
 It was a long time ere he spoke, and then he referred to an 
 incident already noticed. " It is strange," he said, " that Bevis 
 should have followed Joceline and that fellow rather than me." 
 
 " Assure yourself, sir," replied Alice, " that his sagacity saw in 
 this man a stranger, whom he thought himself obliged to watch 
 circumspectly, and therefore he remained with Joceline." 
 
 " Not so, Alice," answered Sir Henry ; " he leaves me because 
 my fortunes have fled from me. There is a feeling in nature, 
 affecting even the instinct, as it is called, of dumb animals, which 
 teaches them to fly from misfortune. The very deer there will butt 
 a sick or wounded buck from the herd ; hurt a dog, and the whole 
 kennel will fall on him and worry him ; fishes devour their own 
 kind when they are wounded with a spear ; cut a crow's wing, or 
 break its leg, the others will buffet it to death." 
 
 " That may be true of the more irrational kinds of animals 
 among each other," said Alice, " for their whole life is wellnigh a 
 warfare ; but the dog leaves his own race to attach himself to ours ; 
 forsakes, for his master, the company, food, and pleasure of his 
 own kind ; and surely the fidelity of such a devoted and voluntary 
 servant as Bevis hath been in particular, ought not to be lightly 
 suspected." 
 
 " I am not angry with the dog, Alice ; I am only sorry," replied her 
 father. " I have read, in faithful chronicles, that when Richard II. 
 and Henry of Bolingbroke were at Berkeley Castle, a dog of the 
 same kind deserted the King, whom he had always attended upon, 
 and attached himself to Henry, whom he then saw for the first 
 time. Richard foretold, from the desertion of his favourite, his 
 approaching deposition.* The dog was afterwards kept at Wood- 
 stock, and Bevis is said to be of his breed, which was heedfuUy 
 kept up. What I might foretell of mischief from his desertion, I 
 cannot guess, but my mind assures me it bodes no good," 
 
WOODSTOCK. 79 
 
 There was a distant rustling among the withered leaves, a 
 bouncing or galloping sound on the path, and the favourite dog 
 instantly joined his master. 
 
 " Come into court, old knave," said Alice, cheerfully, " and 
 defend thy character, which is wellnigh endangered by this 
 absence." But the dog only paid her courtesy by gambolling 
 around them, and instantly plunged back again, as fast as he could 
 scamper. 
 
 " How now, knave .'" said the knight ; "thou art too well trained, 
 surely, to take up the chase without orders?" A minute more 
 showed them Phcebe Mayflower approaching, her light pace so little 
 impeded by the burden which she bore, that she joined her master 
 and young mistress just as they arrived at the keeper's hut, which 
 was the boundary of their journey. Bevis, who had shot a-head to 
 pay his compliments to Sir Henry his master, had returned again 
 to his immediate duty, the escorting Phosbe and her cargo of pro- 
 visions. The whole party stood presently assembled before the 
 door of the keeper's hut. 
 
 In better times, a substantial stone habitation, fit for the yeoman- 
 keeper of a royal walk, had adorned this place. A fair spring 
 gushed out near the spot, and once traversed yards and courts, 
 attached to well-built and convenient kennels .and mews. But in 
 some of the skirmishes which were common during the civil wars, 
 this little silvan dwelling had been attacked and defended, stormed 
 and burnt. A neighbouring squire, of the Parliament side of the 
 question, took advantage of Sir Henry Lee's absence, who was then 
 in Charles's camp, and of the decay of the royal cause, and had, 
 without scruple, carried off the hewn stones, and such building 
 materials as the fire left unconsumed, and repaired his own manor- 
 house with them. The yeoman-keeper, therefore, our friend 
 jocehne, had constructed, for his own accommodation, and that of 
 the old woman he called his dame, a wattled hut, such as his own 
 labour, with that of a neighbour or two, had erected in the course 
 of a few days. The walls were plastered with clay, white-washed, 
 and covered with vines and other creeping plants ; the roof was 
 neatly thatched, and the whole, though merely a hut, had, by the 
 neat-handed Joliffe, been so arranged as not to disgrace the con- 
 dition of the dweller. 
 
 The knight advanced to the entrance ; but the ingenuity of the 
 architect, for want of a better lock to the door, which itself was but 
 of wattles curiously twisted, had contrived a mode of securing the 
 latch on the inside with a pin, which prevented it from rising ; and 
 in this manner it was at present fastened. Conceiving that this was 
 some precaution of Joliffe's old housekeeper, of whose deafness they 
 were all aware, Sir Henry raised his voice tcx demand adioittance, 
 
So WOODSTOCK. 
 
 but in vain. Irritated at this delay, he pressed the door at once 
 with foot and hand, in a way which the frail barrier was unable to 
 resist ; it gave way accordingly, and the knight thus forcibly entered 
 the kitchen, or outward apartment, of his servant. In the midst of 
 the floor, and with a posture which indicated embarrassment, stood 
 a youthful stranger, in a riding-suit. 
 
 " This may be my last act of authority here," said the knight, 
 seizing the stranger by the collar, " but I am still Ranger of Wood- 
 stock for this night at least — ^Who, or what art thou .'"' 
 
 " The stranger dropped the riding-mantle in which his face was 
 muffled, and at the same time fell on one knee. 
 
 " Your poor kinsman, Markham Everard," he said, " who came 
 hither for your sake, although he fears you will scarce make him 
 welcome for his own.' 
 
 Sir Henry started back, but recovered himself in an instant, as 
 one who recollected that he had a part of dignity to perform. He 
 stood erect, therefore, and replied, with considerable assumption of 
 stately ceremony : 
 
 " Fair kinsman, it pleases me that you are come to Woodstock 
 upon the very first night that, for many years which have past, is 
 likely to promise you a worthy or a welcome reception." 
 
 " Now God grant it be so, that I rightly hear and duly under- 
 stand you!" said the young man; while Ahce, though she was 
 silent, kept her looks fixed on her father's face, as if desirous 
 to know whether his meaning was kind towards his nephew, 
 which her knowledge of his character inclined her greatly to 
 doubt. 
 
 The knight meanwhile darted a sardonic look, first on his nephew, 
 then on his daughter, and proceeded — " I need not, I presume, 
 inform Mr. Markham Everard, that it cannot be our purpose to 
 entertain him, or even to offer him a seat in this poor hut." 
 
 " I will attend you most willingly to the Lodge," said the young 
 gentleman. " I had, indeed, judged you were already there for the 
 evening, and feared to intrude upon you. But if you would permit 
 me, my dearest uncle, to escort my kinswoman and you back to the 
 Lodge, believe me, amongst all which you have so often done of 
 good and kind, you never conferred benefit that will be so dearly 
 prized." 
 
 " You mistake me greatly, Mr. Markham Everard," replied the 
 knight. " It is rvot our purpose to return to the Lodge to-night, 
 nor, by Our Lady, to-morrow neither. I meant but to intimate to 
 you in all courtesy, that at Woodstock Lodge you will find those for 
 whom you are fitting society, and who, doubtless, will afford you a 
 willing welcome ; which I, sir, in this my present retreat, do not 
 presume to offer to a person of your consequence." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 8i 
 
 " For Heaven's sake," said the young man, turning to Alice, "tell 
 me how I am to understand language so mysterious !" 
 
 Alice, to prevent his increasing the restrained anger of her father, 
 compelled herself to answer, though it was v/ith difficulty, "We are 
 expelled from the Lodge by soldiers." 
 
 "Expelled — by soldiers!" exclaimed Everard, in surprise — 
 " there is no legal warrant for this." 
 
 " None at all," answered the knight, in the same tone of cutting 
 irony which he had all along used, "and yet as lawful a warrant, as 
 for aught that has been wrought in England this twelvemonth and 
 more. You are, I think, or were, an Inns-of-Court-man — marry, 
 sir, your enjoyment of your profession is like that lease which a 
 prodigal wishes to have of a wealthy widow. You have already 
 survived the law which you studied, and its expiry doubtless has 
 not been without a legacy — some decent pickings, some merciful 
 increases, as the phrase goes. You have deserved it two ways — you 
 wore buff and bandoleer, as well as wielded pen and ink — I have 
 not heard if you held forth too." 
 
 " Think of me and speak of me as harshly as you will, sir," said 
 Everard, submissively. " I have but, in this evil time, guided 
 myself by my conscience, and my father's commands." 
 
 " O, an you talk of conscience," said the old knight, " I must have 
 mine eye upon you, as Hamlet says. Never yet did Puritan cheat 
 so grossly as when he was appealing to his conscience ; and as for 
 t\xy father" 
 
 He was about to proceed in a tone of the same invective, when 
 the young man interrupted him, by saying, in a firm tone, " Sir 
 Henry Lee, you have ever been thought noble— Say of me what you 
 will, but speak not of my father what the ear of a son should not 
 endure, and which yet his arm cannot resent. To do me such 
 wrong is to insult an unarmed man, or to beat a captive." 
 
 Sir Henry paused, as if struck by the remark. " Thou hast 
 spoken truth in that, Mark, wert thou the blackest Puritan whom 
 hell ever vomited, to distract an unhappy country." 
 
 " Be that as you will to think it," replied Everard ; " but let me 
 not leave you to the shelter of this wretched hovel. The night is 
 drawing to storm — let me but conduct you to the Lodge, and expel 
 those intruders, who can, as yet at least, have no warrant for what 
 they do. I will not linger a moment behind them, save just to 
 deliver my father's message. — Grant me but this much, for the love 
 you once bore me ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mark," answered his uncle, firmly, but sorrowfully, " thou 
 speakest truth — I did love thee once. The bright-haired boy whom 
 I taught to ride, to shoot, to hunt — whose hours of happiness were 
 spent with me, wherever those of graver labours were employed — 
 
 G 
 
82 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 I did love that boy — ay, and I am weak enough to love even the 
 memory of what he was. — But he is gone, Mark — he is gone ; and 
 in his room I only behold an avowed and determined rebel to his 
 religion and to his king — a rebel more detestable on account of his 
 success, the more infamous through the plundered wealth with 
 which he hopes to gild his villainy. — But I am poor, thou think'st, 
 and should hold my peace, lest men say, ' Speak, sirrah, when you 
 should.' — Know, however, that, indigent and plundered as I am, I 
 feel myself dishonoured in holding even but this much talk with the 
 tool of usurping rebels. Go to the Lodge, if thou wilt — ^yonder lies 
 the way — ^but think not that, to regain my dwelling there, or all the 
 wealth I ever possessed in my wealthiest days, I would willingly 
 accompany thee three steps on the greensward. If I must be thy 
 companion, it shall be only when thy red-coats have tied my hands 
 behind me, and bound my legs beneath my horse's belly. Thou 
 mayst be my fellow traveller then, I grant thee, if thou wilt, but not 
 sooner." 
 
 Alice, who suffered cruelly during this dialogue, and was well 
 aware that further argument would only kindle the knight's resent- 
 ment still more highly, ventured at last, in her anxiety, to make a 
 sign to her cousin to break off the interview, and to retire, since her 
 father commanded his absence in a manner so peremptory. Un- 
 happily she was observed by Sir Henry, who, concluding that what 
 he saw was evidence of a private understanding betwixt the cousins, 
 his wrath acquired new fuel, and it required the utmost exertion of 
 self-command, and recollection of all that was due to his own 
 dignity, to enable him to veil his real fury under the same ironical 
 manner which he had adopted at the beginning of this angry 
 interview. 
 
 " If thou art afraid," he said, " to trace our forest glades by night, 
 respected stranger, to whom I am perhaps bound to do honour as 
 my successor in the charge of these walks, here seems to be a modest 
 damsel, who wiU be most willing to wait on thee, and be thy bow- 
 bearer. — Only, for her mother's sake, let there pass some slight form 
 of marriage between you — Ye need no license or priest in these 
 happy days, but may be buckled like beggars in a ditch, with a hedge 
 for a church-roof, and a tinker for a priest. I crave pardon of you 
 for making such an officious and simple request — perhaps you are 
 a Ranter — or one of the family of Love, or hold marriage rites as 
 unnecessary, as Knipperdoling, or Jack of Leyden ?" 
 
 " For mercy's sake, forbear such dreadful jesting, my father ! and 
 do you, Markham, begone, in God's name, and leave us to our fate 
 — Your presence makes my father rave." 
 
 " Jesting !" said Sir Henry, "I was never more serious— Raving ! 
 —I was never more composed— I could never brook that falsehood 
 
WOODSTOCK. 83 
 
 should approach me — I would no more bear by my side a dis- 
 honoured daughter than a dishonoured sword ; and this unhappy 
 day hath shown that both can fail." 
 
 "Sir Henry," said young Everard, "load not your soul with a 
 heavy crime, which be assured you do, in treating your daughter 
 thus unjustly. It is long'now since you denied her to me, when we 
 were poor and you were powerful. I acquiesced in your prohibition 
 of all suit and intercourse. God knoweth what I suffered — but I 
 acquiesced. Neither is it to renew my suit that I now come hither, 
 and have, I do acknowledge, sought speech of her — not for her own 
 sake only, but for yours also. Destruction hovers over you, ready 
 to close her pinions to stoop, and her talons to clutch— Yes, sir, 
 look contemptuous as you will, such is the case ! and it is to protect 
 both you and her that I am here." 
 
 " You refuse then my free gift," said Sir Henry Lee ; " or perhaps 
 you think it loaded with too hard conditions ?" 
 
 " Shame, shame on you. Sir Henry !" said Everard, waxing warm 
 in his turn; "have your political prejudices so utterly warped every 
 feeling of a father, that you can speak with bitter mockery and scorn 
 of what concerns your own daughter's honour ? — Hold up your head, 
 fair Alice, and tell your father he has forgotten nature in his fantastic 
 spirit of loyalty. — Know, Sir Henry, that though I would prefer your 
 daughter's hand to every blessing which Heaven could bestow on 
 me, I would not accept it — my conscience would not permit me to 
 do so — when I knew it must withdraw her from her duty to you." 
 
 " Your conscience is over scrupulous, young man ; — carry it to 
 some dissenting rabbi, and he who takes all that comes to net, will 
 teach thee it is sinning against our mercies to refuse any good 
 thing that is freely offered to us." 
 
 " When it is freely offered, and kindly offered — not when the 
 offer is made in irony and insult. — Fare thee well, Alice — if aught 
 could make me desire to profit by thy father's wild wish to cast 
 thee from him in a moment of unworthy suspicion, it would be 
 that while indulging in such sentiments, Sir Henry Lee is tyran- 
 nically oppressing the creature, who of all others is most dependent 
 on his kindness — who of all others will most feel his severity, and 
 whom, of all others, he is most bound to cherish and support." 
 
 " Do not fear for me, Mr. Everard," exclaimed Alice, aroused 
 from her timidity by a dread of the consequences not unlikely to 
 ensue, where civil war set relations, as well as fellow-citizens, in 
 opposition to each other. — " Oh, begone, I conjure you, begone ! 
 Nothing stands betwixt me and my father's, kindness, but these 
 unhappy family divisions — but your ill-timed presence here — For 
 Heaven's sake, leave us ! " 
 
 " Soh, mistress ! " answered the hot old cavalier, " vou play lady 
 
84 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 paramount already ; and who but yon ! — you would dictate to our 
 train, I warrant, like Goneril and Regan ! But I tell thee, no man 
 shall leave my house — and, humble as it is, this is now my house — 
 while he has aught to say to me that is to be spoken, as this young 
 man now speaks, with a bent brow and a lofty tone. — Speak out, 
 sir, and say your worst ! " 
 
 "Fear not my temper, Mrs. Alice," said Everard, with equal 
 firmness and placidity of manner ; " and you. Sir Henry, do not 
 think that if I speak firmly, I mean therefore'to speak in anger, or 
 officiously. You have taxed me with much, and, were I guided by 
 the wild spirit of romantic chivalry, much which, even from so near 
 a relative, I ought not, as being by birth, and in the world's estima- 
 tion, a gentleman, to pass over without repty. Is it your pleasure 
 to give me patient hearing ? " 
 
 " If you stand on your defence,'' answered the stout old knight, 
 " God forbid that you should not challenge a patient hearing— ay, 
 though your pleading were two parts disloyalty and one blasphemy 
 — Only, be brief— this has already lasted but too long." 
 
 " I will. Sir Henry," replied the young man ; •' yet it is hard to 
 crowd into a few sentences, the defence of a life which, though 
 short, has been a busy one — too busy, your indignant gesture 
 would assert. But I deny it ; I have drawn my sword neither 
 hastily, nor without due consideration, for a people whose rights 
 have been trampled on, and whose consciences have been op- 
 pressed — Frown not, sir — such is not your view of the contest, but 
 such is mine. For my religious principles, at which you have 
 scoffed, believe me, that though they depend not on set forms, they 
 are no less sincere than your own, and thus far purer — excuse the 
 word — that they are unmingled with the bloodthirsty dictates of a 
 barbarous age, which you and others have called the code ot 
 chivalrous honour. Not my own natural disposition, but the 
 better doctrine which my creed has taught, enables me to bear 
 your harsh revilings without answering in a similar tone of wrath 
 and reproach. You may carry insult to extremity against me at 
 your pleasure— not on account of our relationship alone, but 
 because I am bound in charity to endure it. This, Sir Henry, is 
 much from one of our house. But, with forbearance far more than 
 this requires, I can refuse at your hands the gift, which, most of 
 an things under Heaven, I should desire to obtain, because duty 
 calls upon her to sustain and comfort you, and because it were sin 
 to permit you, in your bhndness, to spurn your comforter from 
 your side.— Farewell, sir— not in anger, but in pity— We may meet 
 in a better time, when your heart and your principles shall master 
 the unhappy prejudices by which they are now overclouded.— 
 Farewell— farewell, Alice ! " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 8s 
 
 The last words Were repeated twice, and in a tone of feeling and 
 passionate grief, which differed utterly from the steady and almost 
 severe tone in which he had addressed Sir Henry Lee. He turned 
 and left the hut so soon as he had uttered these last words ; and, 
 as if ashamed of the tenderness which had mingled with his 
 accents, the young commonwealth's man turned and walked sternly 
 and resolvedly forth into the moonlight, which now was spreading 
 its broad light and autumnal shadows over the woodland. 
 
 So soon as he departed, Alice, who had been during the whole 
 scene in the utmost terror that her father might have been hurried, 
 by his natural heat of temper, from violence of language into 
 violence of action, sunk down upon a settle twisted out of willow- 
 boughs, like most of Joceline's few movables, and endeavoured to 
 conceal the tears which accompanied the thanks she rendered) in 
 broken accents to Heaven, that, notwithstanding the near aUiance 
 and relationship of the parties, some fatal deed had not closed an 
 interview so perilous and so angry. Phoebe Mayflower blubbered 
 heartily for company, though she understood but little of what had 
 passed ; just, indeed, enough to enable her afterwards to report to 
 Some half-dozen particular friends, that her old master. Sir Henry, 
 had been perilous angry, and almost fought with, young Master 
 Everard, because he had wellnigh carried away her young mistress. 
 — " And what could he have done better ? " said Phoebe, " seeing 
 the old man had nothing left either for Mrs. Alice or himself ; and 
 as for Mr. Mark Everard, and our young lady, oh ! they had 
 spoken such loving things to each other, as are not to be found in 
 the history of Argalus and Parthenia, who, as the story-book tells, 
 were the truest pair of lovers in all Arcadia, and Oxfordshire to 
 boot." 
 
 Old Goody Jellycot had popped her scarlet hood into the kitchen 
 more than once while the scene was proceeding ; but, as the 
 worthy dame was parcel blind, and more than parcel deaf, know- 
 ledge was excluded by two principal entrances ; and though she 
 comprehended, by a sort of general instinct, that the gentlefolk 
 were at high words, yet why they chose Joceline's hut for the scene 
 of their dispute, was as great a mystery as the subject of the 
 quarrel. 
 
 But what was the state of the old cavalier's mood, thus contra- 
 dicted, as his most darling principles had been, by the last words 
 of his departing nephew ? The truth is, that he was less thoroughly 
 moved than his daughter expected ; and in all probability his 
 nephew's bold defence of his religious and political opinions rather 
 pacified than aggravated his displeasure. Although sufficiently 
 impatient of contradiction, still evasion and subterfuge were more 
 alien to the blunt old Ranger's nature than manly vindication and 
 
86 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 direct opposition ; and he was wont to say, that he ever loved the 
 buck best who stood boldest at bay. He graced his nephew's 
 departure, however, with a quotation from Shakspeare, whom, as 
 many others do, he .was wont to quote from a sort of habit and 
 respect, as a favourite of his unfortunate master, without having 
 either much real taste for his works, or great skill in applying the 
 passages which he retained on his memory. 
 
 " Mark," he said, " mark this, Alice — the devil can quote Scrip- 
 ture for his purpose. Why, this young fanatic cousin of thine, with 
 no more beard than I have seen on a clown playing Maid Marion 
 on May-day, when the village barber had shaved him in too great 
 a hurry, shall match any bearded Presbyterian or Independent of 
 them all, in laying down his doctrines and his uses, and bethump- 
 ing us with his texts and his homilies. I would worthy and learned 
 Doctor Rochecliffe had been here, with his battery ready mounted 
 from the Vulgate, and the Septuagint, and what not — he would 
 have battered the presbyterian spirit out of him with a wanion. 
 However, I am glad the young man is no sneaker ; for, were a man 
 of the devil's opinion in religion, and of Old Noll's in politics, he 
 were better open on it full cry, than deceive you by hunting counter, 
 or running a false scent. Come — wipe thine eyes — the fray is over, 
 and not like to be stirred again soon, I trust." 
 
 Encouraged by these words, Alice rose, and, bewildered as she 
 was, endeavoured to superintend the arrangements for their meal 
 and their repose in their new habitation. But her tears fell so 
 fast, they marred her counterfeited diUgence ; and it was well for 
 her that Phoebe, though too ignorant and too simple to compre- 
 hend the extent of her distress, could afford her material assistance, 
 in lack of mere sympathy. 
 
 With great readiness and address, the damsel set about every 
 thing that was requisite for preparing the supper and the beds ; 
 now screaming into Dame Jellycot's ear, now whispering into her 
 mistress's, and artfully managing, as if she was merely the agent, 
 under Alice's orders. When the cold viands were set forth, Sir 
 Henry Lee kindly pressed his daughter to take refreshment, as if 
 to make up, indirectly, for his previous harshness towards her ; 
 while he himself, like an experienced campaigner, showed, that 
 neither the mortifications nor brawls of the day, nor the thoughts 
 of what was to come to-morrow, could diminish his appetite for 
 supper, which was his favourite meal. He ate up two-thirds of the 
 capon, and, devoting the first bumper to the happy restoration of 
 Charles, second of the name, he finished a quart of wine; for he 
 belonged to a school accustomed to feed the flame of their loyalty 
 with copious brimmers. He even sang a verse of " The King shall 
 enjoy his own again," in which Phcebe, half-sobbing, and Dame 
 
WOODSTOCK. 87 
 
 Jellycot, screaming against time and tune, were contented to lend 
 their aid, to cover Mistress Alice's silence. 
 
 At length the jovial knight betook himself to his rest on the 
 keeper's straw pallet, in a recess adjoining to the kitchen, and, 
 unaffected by his change of dwelling, slept fast and deep. Alice 
 had less quiet rest in old Goody Jellycot's wicker couch, in the 
 inner apartment ; while the dame and Phoebe slept on a mattrass, 
 stuffed with dry leaves, in the same chamber, soundly as those 
 whose daily toil gains their daily bread, and whom morning calls 
 up only to renew the toils of yesterday. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 My tongue pads slowly under this new language. 
 And starts and stumbles at these uncouth phrases. 
 They may be great in worth and weight, but hang 
 Upon the native glibness of my speech, 
 Like Saul's plate-armour on the shepherd boy. 
 Encumbering and not arming him. 
 
 J.B. 
 
 As Markham Everard pursued his way towards the Lodge, 
 through one of the long sweeping glades which traversed the 
 forest, varying in breadth, till the trees were now so close that the 
 boughs made darkness over his head, then receding farther to let 
 in glimpses of the moon, and anon opening yet wider into little 
 meadows or savannahs, on which the moonbeams lay in silvery 
 silence ; as he thus proceeded on his lonely course, the various 
 effects produced by that delicious light on the oaks, whose dark 
 leaves, gnarled branches, and massive trunks, it gilded, more or 
 less partially, might have drawn the attention of a poet or a painter. 
 
 But if Everard thought of any thing saving the painful scene in 
 which he had just played his part, and of which the result seemed 
 the destruction of all his hopes, it was of the necessary guard to be 
 observed in his night-walk. The times were dangerous and unset- 
 tled ; the roads full of disbanded soldiers, and especially of royalists, 
 who made their political opinions a pretext for disturbing the 
 country with marauding parties and robberies. Deer-stealers also, 
 who are ever a desperate banditti, had of late infested Woodstock 
 Chase. In short, the dangers of the place and period were such, 
 that Markham Everard wore his loaded pistols at his belt, and 
 carried his 'drawn sword under his arm, that he might be prepared 
 for whatever peril should cross his path. 
 
 He heard the bells of Woodstock Church ring curfew, just as he 
 was crossing one of the little meadows we have described, and 
 
88 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 they ceased as he entered an overshadowed and twilight part of 
 the path beyond. It was there that he heard some one whistling ; 
 and, as the sound became clearer, it was plain the person was 
 advancing towards him. This could hardly be a friend ; for the 
 party to which he belonged rejected, generally speaking, all music, 
 unless psalmody. " If a man is merry, let him sing psalms," was 
 a text which they were pleased to interpret as literally and to as 
 little purpose as they did some others ; yet it was too continued a 
 sound to be a signal amongst night-walkers, and too light and 
 cheerful to argue any purpose of concealment on the part of the 
 traveller, who presently exchanged his whistling for singing, and 
 trolled forth the following stanza to a jolly tune, with which the old 
 cavaliers were wont to wake the night owl : 
 
 Hey for cavaliers ! Ho for cavaliers ! 
 Pray for cavaliers ! 
 Rub a dub — rub" a dub ! 
 Have at old Beelzebub — 
 Oliver smokes for fear. 
 
 " I should know that voice," said Everard, uncocking the pistol 
 which he had drawn from his belt, but continuing to hold it in his 
 hand. Then came another fragment : 
 
 Hash them — slash them — 
 All to pieces dash them. 
 
 " So ho !" cried Markham, " who goes there, and for whom?" 
 
 "For Church and King," answered a voice, which presently 
 added, " No, d— n me— I mean against Church and King, and for 
 the people that are uppermost — I forget which they are." 
 
 " Roger Wildrake, as I guess .' " said Everard. 
 
 " The same— Gentleman ; of Squattlesea-mere, in the moist 
 county of Lincoln." 
 
 "Wildrake!" said Markham— " Wildgoose you should be 
 called. You have been moistening your own throat to some pur- 
 pose, and using it to gabble tunes very suitable to the times, to be 
 sure I " 
 
 " Faith, the tune's a pretty tune enough, Mark, only out of 
 fashion a little — the more's the pity." 
 
 " What could I expect," said Everard, " but to meet some rant- 
 ing, drunken cavalier, as desperate and dangerous as night and 
 sack usually make them ? What if I had rewarded your melody 
 by a ball in the gullet ?" 
 
 " Why, there would have been a piper paid— that's all," said 
 
WOODSTOCK. 89 
 
 Wildrake. — " But wherefore come you this way now ? — I was about 
 to seek you at the hut." 
 
 " I have been obhgecl to leave it — I will tell you the cause here- 
 after," replied Markham. 
 
 " What ! the old play-hunting cavalier was cross, or Chloe was 
 unkind ? " 
 
 "Jest not, Wildrake— it is all over with me," said Everard. 
 
 " The devil it is," exclaimed Wildrake, " and you take it thus 
 quietly ! — Zounds ! let us back together — I'll plead your cause for 
 you — I know how to tickle up an old knight and a pretty maiden 
 — Let me alone for putting you rectus in curia, you canting rogue. 
 — D — n me. Sir Henry Lee, says I, your nephew is a piece of a 
 Puritan — it won't deny — but I'll uphold him a gentleman and a 
 pretty fellow, for all that. — Madam, says I, you may think your 
 cousin looks like a psalm-singing weaver, in that bare felt, and 
 with that rascally brown cloak ; that band, which looks like a 
 baby's clout, and those loose boots, which have a whole calf-skin 
 in each of them, — but let him wear on the one side of his head a 
 castor, with a plume befitting his quality ; give him a good Toledo 
 by his side, with a broidered belt and an inlaid hilt, instead of the 
 ton of iron contained in that basket-hilted black Andrew Ferrara ; 
 put a few smart words in his mouth — and, blood and wounds 1 
 madam, says I " 
 
 " Prithee, truce with this nonsense, Wildrake,'' said Everard, 
 " and tell me if you are sober enough to hear a few words of sober 
 reason ? " 
 
 " Pshaw ! man, I did but crack a brace of quarts with yonder 
 puritanic, roundheaded soldiers, up yonder at the town ; and rat 
 me but I passed myself for the best man of the party ; twanged my 
 nose, and turned up my eyes, as I took my can — Pah ! the very 
 wine tasted of hypocrisy. — I think the rogue corporal smoked 
 something at last — as for the common fellows, never stir, but they 
 asked me to say grace over another quart ! " 
 
 " This is just what I wished to speak with you about, Wildrake," 
 said Markham — " You hold me, I am sure, for your friend ? " 
 
 " True as steel. — Chums at College and at Lincoln's-Inn — we 
 have been Nisus and Euryalus, Theseus and Pirithous, Orestes and 
 Pylades ; and, to sum up the whole with a puritanic touch, David 
 and Jonathan, all in one breath. Not even politics, the wedge that 
 rende families and friendships asunder, as iron rives oak, have been 
 able to split us." 
 
 " True," answered Markham ; " and when you followed the King 
 to Nottingham; and I enrolled under Essex, we swore, at our 
 parting, that whichever side was victorious, he of us who adhered 
 to it, should protect his less fortunate comrade." 
 
9t> WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Surely, man, surely ; and have you not protected me accord- 
 ingly ? Did you not save me from hanging ? and am I not indebted 
 to you for the bread I eat ? " 
 
 " I have but done that, which, had the times been otherwise, you, 
 my dear Wildrake, would, I am sure, have done for me. But, as I 
 said, that is just what I wished to speak to you about. Why render 
 the task of protecting you more difficult than it must necessarily be 
 at any rate ? Why thrust thyself into the company of soldiers, or 
 such like, where thou art sure to be warmed into betraying thyself? 
 Why come hollowing and whooping out cavalier ditties, like a 
 drunken trooper of Prince Rupert, or one of Wilmot's swaggering 
 body-guards ? " 
 
 " Because I may have been both one and t'other in my day, for 
 aught that you know," replied Wildrake. " But, oddsfish ! is it 
 necessary I should always be reminding you, that our obligation of 
 mutual protection, our league of offensive and defensive, as I may 
 call it, was to be carried into effect without reference to the politics 
 or religion of the party protected, or the least obligation on him to 
 conform to those of his friend ? " 
 
 " True," said Everard ; " but with this most necessary qualifica- 
 tion, that the party should submit to such outward conformity to 
 the times as should make it more easy and safe for his friend to be 
 of service to him. Now, you are perpetually breaking forth, to the 
 hazard of your own safety and my credit." 
 
 " I tell you, Mark, and I would tell your namesake the apostle, 
 that you are hard on me. You have practised sobriety and 
 hypocrisy from your hanging sleeves till your Geneva cassock — 
 from the cradle to this day, — and it is a thing of nature to you ; 
 and you are surprised that a rough, rattling, honest fellow, accus- 
 tomed to speak truth all his life, and especially when he found it at 
 the bottom of a flask, cannot be so perfect a prig as thyself ! — 
 Zooks ! there is no equality betwixt us — A trained diver might as 
 well, because he can retain his breath for ten minutes without 
 inconvenience, upbraid a poor devil for being like to burst in twenty 
 seconds, at the bottom of ten fathoms' water — And, after all, con- 
 sidering the guise is so new to me, I think I bear myself indiffe- 
 rently well — try me ! '' 
 
 " Are there any more news from Worcester fight ? " asked 
 Everard, in a tone so serious that it imposed on his companion, 
 who replied in his genuine character — 
 
 " Worse ! — d — n me, worse an hundred times than reported — 
 totally broken. Noll hath certainly sold himself to the devil, and 
 his lease will have an end one day — that is all our present 
 comfort." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 9t 
 
 " What ! and would this be your answer to the first red-coat who 
 asked the question ? " said Everard. " Methinks you would find a 
 speedy passport to the next corps de garde." 
 
 " Nay, nay," answered Wildrake, " I thought you asked me in 
 your own person.— Lack-a-day ! a great mercy — a glorifying mercy 
 — a crowning mercy — a vouchsafing — an uplifting — I profess the 
 malignants are scattered from Dan to Beersheba — smitten, hip and 
 thigh, even until the going down of the sun ! " 
 
 " Hear you aught of Colonel Thornhaugh's wounds ? " 
 
 " He is dead," answered Wildrake, " that's one comfort — the 
 roundheaded rascal ! — Nay, hold ! it was but a trip of the tongue — 
 I meant, the sweet godly youth." 
 
 " And hear you aught of the young man, King of Scotland, as 
 they call him ? " said Everard. 
 
 " Nothing, but that he is hunted like a partridge on the moun- 
 tains. May God deliver him, and confound his enemies ! — Zoons, 
 Mark Everard, I can fool it no longer. Do you not remember, that 
 at the Lincoln's-Inn gambols — though you did not mingle much in 
 them, I think— I used always to play as well as any of them, when 
 it came to the action, but they could never get me to rehearse 
 conformably. It's the same at this day. I hear your voice, and I 
 answer to it in the true tone of my heart ; but when I am in the 
 company of your snuffling friends, you have seen me act my part 
 indifferent well." 
 
 " But indifferent, indeed," replied Everard ; " however, there is 
 little call on you to do aught, save to be modest and silent. Speak 
 httle, and lay aside, if you can, your big oaths and swaggering looks 
 — set your hat even on your brows." 
 
 " Ay, that is the curse ! I have been always noted for the jaunty 
 manner in which I wear my castor — Hard when a man's merits 
 become his enemies ! " 
 
 " You must remember you are my clerk." 
 
 " Secretary," answered Wildrake ; " let it be secretary, if you 
 love me." 
 
 " It must be clerk, and nothing else — plain clerk — and remember 
 to be civil and obedient," replied Everard. 
 
 " But you should not lay on your commands with so much osten- 
 tatious superiority, Master Markham Everard. Remember I am 
 your senior of three years standing. Confound me, if I know how 
 to take it ! " 
 
 " Was ever such a fantastic wronghead ! — For my sake, if not for 
 thine own, bend thy freakish foUy to listen to reason. Think that 
 I have incurred both risk and shame on thy account." 
 
 " Nay, thou art a right good fellow, Mark," replied the cavalier, 
 " and for thy sake I will do much — but remember to cough, and 
 
92 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 cry hem t when thou seest me like to break bounds — And now tell 
 me whither we are bound for the night ? " 
 
 "To Woodstock Lodge, to look after my uncle's property,'' 
 answered Markham Everard : " I am informed that soldiers have 
 taken possession — Yet how could that be, if thou foundest the party 
 drinking in Woodstock?" 
 
 "There was a kind of commissary or steward, or some such 
 rogue, had gone down to the Lodge," replied Wildrake ; " I had a 
 peep at him." 
 
 " Indeed ! " repUed Everard. 
 
 " Ay, verily," said Wildrake, " to speak your own language. 
 Why, as I passed through the park in quest of you, scarce half an 
 hour since, I saw a light in the Lodge— Step this way, you will see 
 it yourself." 
 
 " In the north-west angle 'i " returned Everard — " It is from a 
 window ift what they call Victor Lee's apartment." 
 
 " Well," resumed Wildrake, " I had been long one of Lundsford's 
 lads, and well used to patrolling duty — So, rat me, says I, if I leave 
 a light in my rear, without knowing what it means. Besides, Mark, 
 thou hadst said so much to me of thy pretty cousin, I thought I 
 might as well have a peep, if I could." 
 
 " Thoughtless, incorrigible man I to what dangers do you expose 
 yourself and your friends, in mere wantonness ! — But go on." 
 
 " By this fair moonshine, I believe thou art jealous, Mark 
 Everard ! " replied his gay companion ; " there is no occasion ; 
 for, in any case, I, who was to see the lady, was steeled by honour 
 against the charms of my friend's Chloe — Then the lady was not to 
 see me, so could make no comparisons to thy disadvantage, thou 
 knowest — Lastly, as it fell out, neither of us saw the other at all." 
 
 " Of that I am well aware. Mrs. Alice left the Lodge long before 
 sunset, and never returned. What didst thou see to introduce with 
 such preface ? " 
 
 " Nay, no great matter," replied Wildrake ; " only getting upon 
 a sort of buttress, (for I can climb like any cat that ever mewed in 
 any gutter,) and holding on by the vines and creepers which grew 
 around, I obtained a station where I could see into the inside of 
 that same parlour thou spokest of just now." 
 
 " And what saw'st thou there ? " once more demanded Everard. 
 
 " Nay, no great matter, as I said before," replied the cavalier ; 
 " for in these times it is no new thing to see churls carousing in 
 royal or noble chambers. I saw two rascallions engaged in empty- 
 ing a solemn stoup of strong waters, and dispatching a huge 
 venison pasty, which greasy mess, for their convenience, they had 
 placed on a lady's work-table— One of them was trying an air on B 
 lute." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 93 
 
 " The profane villains I " exclaimed Everard, " it was Alice's." 
 
 " Well said, comrade — I am glad your phlegm can be moved. I 
 did but throw in these incidents of the lute and the table, to try if 
 it were possible to get a spark of human spirit out of you, be-sanc- 
 tified as you are." 
 
 " What like were the men ? " said young Everard. 
 
 " The one a slouch-hatted, long-cloaked, sour-faced fanatic, like 
 the rest of you, whom I took to be the steward or commissary I 
 heard spoken of in the town ; the other was a short sturdy fellow, 
 with a wood-knife at his girdle, and a long quarterstaff lying beside 
 him — a black-haired knave, with white teeth and a merry coun- 
 tenance — one of the under-rangers or bow-bearers of these walks, I 
 fancy." 
 
 " They must have been Desborougn s favourite, trusty Tomkins," 
 said Everard, " and Joceline Joliffe, the keeper. Tomkins is Des- 
 borough's right hand — an Independent, and hath pourings fort'n, 
 as he calls them. Some think that his gifts have the better of his 
 grace. I have heard of his abusing opportunities." 
 
 " They were improving them when I saw them,'' replied Wild- 
 rake, " and made the bottle smoke for it — when, as the devil would 
 have it, a stone, which had been dislodged from the crumbling 
 buttress, gave way under my weight. A clumsy fellow like thee 
 would have been so long thinking what was to be done, that he 
 must needs have followed it before he could make up his mind ; 
 but I, Mark, I hopped like a squirrel to an ivy twig, and stood fast 
 — was well-nigh shot, though, for the noise alarmed them both. 
 They looked to the oriel, and saw me on the outside ; the fanatic 
 fellow took out a pistol — as they have always such texts in readiness 
 hanging beside the little clasped Bible, thou know'st — the keeper 
 seized his hunting-pole — I treated them both to a roar and a grin 
 — thou must know I can grimace like a baboon — I learned the trick 
 from a French player, who could twist his jaws into a pair of nut- 
 crackers — and there-withal I dropped myself sweetly on the grass, 
 and ran off so trippingly, keeping the dark side of the wall as long 
 as I could, that I am wellnigh persuaded they thought I was their 
 kinsman, the devil, come among them uncalled. They were 
 abominably startled." 
 
 " Thou art most fearfully rash, Wildrake," said his companion ; 
 " we are now bound for the house — ^what if they should remember 
 thee?" 
 
 " Why, it is no treason, is it ? No one has paid for peeping since 
 Tom of Coventry's days ; and if he came in for a reckoning, belike 
 it was for a better treat than mine. But trust me, they will no more 
 know me, than a, man who had only seen your friend Noll at a con- 
 venticle of saints, would know the same Oliver on horseback, and 
 
94 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 charging with his lobster-tailed squadron ; or the same Noll 
 cracking a jest and a bottle with wicked Waller the poet." 
 
 " Hush ! not a word of Oliver, as thou dost value thyself and me. 
 It is ill jesting with the rock you may split on. — But here is the 
 gate — we' will disturb these honest gentlemen's recreations." 
 
 As he spoke, he applied the large and ponderous knocker to the 
 hall-door. 
 
 " Rat-tat-tat-too !" said Wildrake ; "there is a fine alarm to you 
 cuckolds and roundheads !" He then half-mimicked, half-sung the 
 march so called : — 
 
 " Cuckolds, come dig, cuckolds, come dig ; 
 Round about cuckolds, come'dance to my jig !" 
 
 " By Heaven ! this passes midsummer frenzy," said Everard, 
 turning angrily on him. 
 
 " Not a bit, not a bit," replied Wildrake ; " it is but a slight ex- 
 pectoration, just like what one makes before beginning a long 
 speech. I will be grave for an hour together, now I have got that 
 point of war out of my head." 
 
 As he spoke, steps were heard in the hall, and the wicket of the 
 great door was partly opened, but secured with a chain in case of 
 accidents. The visage of Tomkins, and that of Joceline beneath it, 
 appeared at the chink, illuminated by the lamp which the latter 
 held in his hand, and Tomkins demanded the meaning of this alarm. 
 
 "I demand instant admittance!" said Everard. "Joliffe, you 
 know me well ?" 
 
 " I do, sir," replied Joceline, "and could admit you with all my 
 heart ; but, alas ! sir, you see I am not key-keeper. Here is the 
 gentleman whose warrant I must walk by — The Lord help me, 
 seeing times are such as they be ! " 
 
 "And when that gentleman, who I think may be Master 
 Desborough's valet " 
 
 " His honour's unworthy secretary, an it please you," interposed 
 Tomkins ; while Wildrake whispered in Everard's ear, " I will be 
 no longer secretary. Mark, thou wert quite right — the clerk must 
 be the more gentlemanly calling." 
 
 " And if you are Master Desborough's secretary, I presume you 
 know me and my condition well enough," said Everard, addressing 
 the Independent, " not to hesitate to admit me and my attendant 
 to a night's quarters in the Lodge ?" 
 
 " Surely not, surely not," said the Independent — " that is, if your 
 worship thinks you would be better accommodated here than up 
 at the house of entertainment in the town, which men unprofitably 
 call Saint Geo,:?ge's Inn. There is but confined accommodation 
 
WOODSTOCK. 9S 
 
 here, your honour — and we have been frayed out of our lives already 
 by the visitation of Satan — albeit his fiery dart is now quenched." 
 
 " This may be all well in its place, Sir Secretary," said Everard ; 
 " and you may find a corner for it when you are next tempted to 
 play the preacher. But I will take it for no apology for keeping 
 me here in the cold harvest wind ; and if not presently received, 
 and suitably too, I will report you to your master for insolence in 
 your office." 
 
 The secretary of Desborough did not dare offer farther opposition ; 
 for it is well known that Desborough himself only held his con- 
 sequence as a kinsman of Cromwell ; and the Lord General, who 
 was wellnigh paramount already, was known to be strongly 
 favourable both to the elder and younger Everard. It is true, they 
 were Presbyterians and he an Independent ; and that, though 
 sharing those sentiments of correct morality and more devoted 
 religious feeling, by which, with few exceptions, the Parliamentarian 
 party weredistinguished, the Everards were not disposed to carry 
 these attributes to the extreme of enthusiasm, practised by so many 
 others at the time. Yet it was well known that whatever might be 
 Cromwell's own religious creed, he was not uniformly bounded by 
 it in the choice of his favourites, but extended his countenance to 
 those who could serve him, even although, according to the phrase 
 of the time, they came out of the darkness of Egypt. The character 
 of the elder Everard stood very high for wisdom and sagacity ; 
 besides, being of a good family and competent fortune, his adherence 
 would lend a dignity to any side he might espouse. Then his son 
 had been a distinguished and successful soldier, remarkable for the 
 discipline he maintained among his men, the bravery which he 
 showed in the time of action, and the humanity with which he was 
 always ready to qualify the consequences of victory. Such men were 
 not to be neglected, when many signs combined to shew that the 
 parties in the state, who had successfully accomplished the deposi- 
 tion and death of the king, were speedily to quarrel among them- 
 selves about the division of the spoils. The two Everards were 
 therefore much courted by Cromwell, and their influence with him 
 was supposed to be so great, that trusty Master Secretary Tomkins 
 cared not to expose himself to risk, by contending with Colonel 
 Everard for such a trifle as a night's lodging, or a greater thing. 
 
 Joceline was active on his side — more lights were obtained— more 
 wood thrown on the fire— and the two newly-arrived strangers were 
 introduced into Victor Lee's parlour, as it was called, from the 
 picture over the chimney-piece, which we have already described. 
 It was several minutes ere Colonel Everard could recover his general 
 stoicism of deportment, so strongly was he impressed by finding 
 himself in the apartment, under whose roof he had passed so many 
 
96 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 of the happiest hours of his Ufe. There was the cabinet, which he 
 had seen opened with such feelings of delight when Sir Henry Lee 
 deigned to give him instructions in fishing, and to exhibit hooks and 
 lines, together with all the materials for making the artificial fly, 
 then little known. There hung the ancient family picture, which, 
 from some odd mysterious expressions of his uncle relating to it, 
 had become to his boyhood, nay, his early youth, a subject of 
 curiosity and of fear. He remembered how, when left alone in the 
 apartment, the searching eye of the old warrior seemed always bent 
 upon his, in whatever part of t"he room he placed himself, and how 
 his childish imagination was perturbed at a phenomenon, for which 
 he could not account. 
 
 With these came a thousand dearer and warmer recollections of 
 his early attachment to his pretty cousin Alice, when he assisted her 
 at her lessons, brought water for her flowers, or accompanied her 
 while she sung ; and he remembered that while her father looked 
 at them with a good-humoured and careless smile, he had once 
 heard him mutter, "And if it should turn out so — why it might be 
 best for both," and the theories of happiness he had reared on these 
 words. All these visions had been dispelled by the trumpet of war, 
 which called Sir Henry Lee and himself to opposite sides ; and the 
 transactions of this very day had shown, that even Everard's success 
 as a soldier and a statesman seemed absolutely to prohibit the 
 chance of their being revived. 
 
 He was waked out of this unpleasing reverie by the approach of 
 Joceline, who, being possibly a seasoned toper, had made the 
 additional arrangements with more expedition and accuracy, than 
 could have been expected from a person engaged as he had been 
 since nightfall. 
 
 He now wished to know the Colonel's directions for the night. 
 
 " Would he eat any thing ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Did his honour choose to accept Sir Henry Lee's bed, which 
 was ready prepared?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That of Mistress Alice Lee should be prepared for the 
 Secretary." 
 
 " On pain of thine ears — No," replied Everard. 
 
 " Where then was the worthy Secretary to be quartered ?" 
 
 " In the dOg-kennel, if you list," replied Colonel Everard; "but," 
 added he, stepping to the sleeping apartment of Alice, which opened 
 from the parlour, locking it, and taking out the key, " no one shall 
 profane this chamber." 
 
 " Had his honour any other commands for the night ?" 
 
 " None, save to clear the apartment of yonder man.— My clerk 
 
WOODSTOCK. 97 
 
 will remain with me— I have orders which must be written out.— 
 Yet stay — Thou gavest my letter this morning to Mistress AUce ?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Tell me, good Joceline, what she said when she received it ?" 
 
 " She seemed much concerned, sir ; and indeed I think that she 
 wept a. little — but indeed she seemed very much distressed." 
 
 "And what message did she send to me?" 
 
 " None, may it please your honour — She began to say, ' Tell my 
 cousin Everard that I will communicate my uncle's kind purpose 
 to my father, if I can get fitting opportunity — but that I greatly 
 fear ' — and there checked herself, as it were, and said, ' I will write 
 to my cousin ; and as it may be late ere I have an opportunity of 
 speaking with my father, do thou come for my answer after service.' 
 — So I went to church myself, to while away the time ; but when I 
 returned to the Chase, I found this man had summoned my master 
 to surrender, and, right or wrong, I must put him in possession of 
 the Lodge. I would fain have given your honour a hint that the 
 old knight and my young mistress were like to take you on the 
 form, but I could not mend the matter." 
 
 " Thou hast done well, good fellow, and I will remember thee. — 
 And now, my masters," he said, advancing to the brace of clerks or 
 secretaries, who had in the meanwhile sat quietly down beside the 
 stone bottle, and made up acquaintance over a glass of its contents 
 — " Let me remind you, that the night wears late." 
 
 " There is something cries tinkle, tinkle, in the bottle yet," said 
 Wildrake, in reply. 
 
 " Hem ! hem ! hem !" coughed the Colonel of the Parliament 
 service ; and if his lips did not curse his companion's imprudence, 
 I will not answer for what arose in his heart. — " Well !" he said, 
 observing that Wildrake had filled his own glass and Tomkins's, 
 " take that parting glass and begone." 
 
 " Would you not be pleased to hear first," said Wildrake, " how 
 this honest gentleman saw the devil to-night look through a pane 
 of yonder window, and how he thinks he had a mighty strong re- 
 semblance to your worship's humble slave and varlet scribbler? 
 Would you but hear this, sir, and just sip a glass of this very 
 recommendable strong waters ?" 
 
 " I will drink none, sir," said Colonel Everard sternly ; " and I 
 have to tell jija, that you have drunken a glass too much already. — 
 Mr. Tomkins, sir, I wish you good-night." 
 
 " A word in season at parting," said Tomkins, standing up behind 
 the long leathern back of a chair, hemming and snuffling as if 
 preparing for an exhortation. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," replied Markham Everard ; " you are not now 
 sufficiently yourself to guide the devotion of others." 
 
 H 
 
98 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "Woe be to them that reject 1" said the Secretary of the Com- 
 missioners, stalking out of the room— the rest was lost in shutting 
 the door, or suppressed for fear of offence. 
 
 "And now, fool Wildrake, begone to thy bed — yonder it lies," 
 pointing to the knight's apartment. 
 
 " What, thou hast secured the lady's for thyself? I saw thee put 
 the key in thy pocket." 
 
 " I would not — indeed I could not sleep in that apartment — I can 
 sleep nowhere— but I will watch in this arm-chair. I have made 
 him place wood for repairing the fire.— Good now, go to bed thyself, 
 and sleep off thy liquor." 
 
 " Liquor ! — I laugh thee to scorn, Mark — thou art a milksop, and 
 the son of a milksop, and know'st not what a goo.d fellow can do in 
 the way of crushing an honest cup." 
 
 " The whole vices of his faction are in this poor fellow individually," 
 said the Colonel to himself, eyeing his protegd askance, as the other 
 retreated into the bedroom, with no very steady pace — " He is 
 reckless, intemperate, dissolute ; and if I cannot get him safely 
 shipped for France, he will certainly be both his own ruin and mine. 
 — Yet, withal, he is kind, brave, aind generous, and would have kept 
 the faith with me which he now expects from me ; and in what con- 
 sists the merit of our truth, if we observe not our plighted word 
 when we have promised to our hurt ? I will take the liberty, how- 
 ever, to secure myself against farther interruption on his part." 
 
 So saying, he locked the dobr of communication betwixt the 
 sleeping-room, to which the cavaUer had retreated, and the parlour ; 
 and then, after pacing the floor thoughtfully, returned to his seat, 
 trimmed the lamp, and drew out a number of letters. — " I will read 
 these over once more," he said, " that, if possible, the thought of 
 public affairs may expel this keen sense of personal sorrow. Gra- 
 cious Providence, where is this to end ! We have sacrificed the 
 peace of our families, the warmest wishes of cur young hearts, to 
 right the country in which we were bom, and to free her from op- 
 pression ; yet it appears, that every step we have made towards 
 liberty, has but brought us in view of new and more terrific perils, 
 as he who travels in a mountainous region, is, by every step which 
 elevates him higher, placed in a situation of more imminent hazard." 
 
 He read long and attentively, various tedious and embarrassed 
 letters, in which the writers, placing before him the glory of God, 
 and the freedom and liberties of England, as their supreme ends, 
 could not, by all the ambagitory expressions they made use of, 
 prevent the shrewd eye of Markham Everard from seeing, that self- 
 interest and views of ambition were the principal moving-springs at 
 the bottom of their plots. 
 
WOODSTOCK. '99 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Sleep steals on us even like his brother Death — 
 We know not when it comes — we know it must come^ 
 We may affect to scorn and to contemn it, 
 For 'tis the highest pride of human misery 
 To say it knows not of an opiate : 
 Yet the reft parent, the despairing lover. 
 Even the poor wretch who waits for execution. 
 Feels this oblivion, against which he thought 
 His woes had arm'd his senses, steal upon him, 
 And through the fenceless citadel — the body- 
 Surprise that haughty garrison — the mind. 
 
 Herbert, 
 
 Colonel Sverard experienced the truth contained in the verses 
 of the quaint old bard whom we have quoted above. Amid private 
 grief, and anxiety for a country long a prey to civil war, and not 
 likely to fall soon under any fixed or well-established form of govern- 
 ment, Everard and his father had, like many others, turned their 
 eyes to General Cromwell, as the person whose valour had made 
 him the darling of the army, whose strong sagacity had hitherto 
 predominated over the high talents by which he had been assailed 
 in Parliament, as well as over his enemies in the field, and who 
 was alone in the situation [to settle the nation, as the phrase then 
 went : or, in other words, to dictate the mode of government. The 
 father and son were both reputed to stand high in the General's 
 favour. But Markham Everard was conscious of some particulars, 
 which induced him to doubt whether Cromwell actually, and at 
 heart, bore either to his father or to himself that good-will which 
 was generally believed. He knew him for a profound politician, 
 who could veil for any length of time his real sentiments of men and 
 things, until they could be displayed without prejudice to his in- 
 terest. And he moreover knew that the General was not likely to 
 forget the opposition which the Presbyterian party had offered to 
 what Oliver called the Great Matter — the trial, namely, and execu- 
 tion of the King. In this opposition, his father and he had anxiously 
 concurred, nor had the arguments, nor even the haK-expressed 
 threats of Cromwell, induced them to flinch from that course, far 
 less to permit their names to be introduced into the commission 
 nominated to sit in judgment on that memorable occasion 
 
 This hesitation had occasioned some temporary coldness between 
 the General and the Everards, father and son. But as the latter 
 remained in the army, and bore arms under Cromwell both in. 
 
 H 2 
 
loo WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Scotland, and finally at Worcester, his services very frequently 
 called forth the approbation of his commander. After the fight of 
 Worcester, in particular, he was among the number of those officers 
 on whom Oliver, rather considering the actual and practical extent 
 of his own power, than the name under which he exercised it, was 
 with difficulty withheld from imposing the dignity of Knights- 
 Bannerets at his own will and pleasure. It therefore seemed, that 
 all recollection of former disagreement was obliterated, and that 
 the Everards had regained their former stronghold in the General's 
 affections. There were, indeed, several who doubted this, and who 
 endeavoured to bring over this distinguished young officer to some 
 other of the parties which divided the infant Commonwealth. But 
 to these proposals he turned a deaf ear. Enough of blood, he said, 
 had been spilled — it was time that the nation should have repose 
 under a firmly established government, of strength sufficient to 
 protect property, and of lenity enough to encourage the return of 
 tranquillity. This, he thought, could .only be accomplished by means 
 of Cromwell, and the greater part of England was of the same 
 opinion. It is true, that, in thus submitting to the domination of 
 a successful soldier, those who did so forgot the principles upon 
 which they had drawn the sword against the late King. But in 
 revolutions, stern and high principles are often obliged to give way 
 to the current of existing circumstances ; and in many a case, where 
 wars have been waged for points of metaphysical right, they have 
 been at last gladly terminated, upon the mere hope of obtaining 
 general tranquillity, as, after many a long siege, a garrison is often 
 glad to submit on mere security for life and limb. 
 
 Colonel Everard, therefore, felt that the support which he aiforded 
 Cromwell, was only under the idea, that, amid a choice of evils, 
 the least was likely to ensue from a man of the General's wisdom 
 and valour being placed at the head of the state ; and he was 
 sensible, that Oliver himself was likely to consider his attachment 
 as lukewarm and imperfect, and measure his gratitude for it upon 
 the same limited scale. 
 
 In the meanwhile, however, circumstances compelled him to 
 make trial of the General's friendship. The sequestration of Wood- 
 stock, and the warrant to the Commissioners to dispose of it as 
 national property, had been long granted, but the interest of the 
 elder Everard had for weeks and months deferred its execution. 
 The hour was now approaching when the blow could be no longer 
 parried, especially as Sir Henry Lee, on his side, resisted every 
 proposal of submitting himself to the existing government, and was 
 therefore, now that his hour of grace was passed, enrolled in the 
 list of stubborn and irreclaimable malignants, with whom the 
 Council of State was determined no longer to keep terms. The 
 
WOODSTOCK, loi 
 
 only mode of protecting the old knight and his idaugliter, was to 
 interest, if possible, the General himself in the matter ; and revolv- 
 ing all the circumstances connected with their intercourse, Colonel 
 Everard felt that a request, which would so immediately interfere 
 with the interests of Desborough, the brother-in-law of Cromwell, 
 and one of the present Commissioners, was putting to a very severe 
 trial the friendship of the latter. Yet no alternative remained. 
 
 With this view, and agreeably to a request from Cromwell, who 
 at parting had been very urgent to have his written opinion upon 
 public affairs. Colonel Everard passed the earlier part of the night 
 in arranging his ideas upon the state of the Commonwealth, in a 
 plan which he thought likely to be acceptable to Cromwell, as it 
 exhorted him, under the aid of Providence, to become the saviour of 
 the state, by convoking a free Parliament, and by their aid placing 
 himself at the head of some form of liberal and established govern- 
 ment, which might supersede the state of anarchy, in which the 
 nation was otherwise likely to be merged. Taking a general view 
 of the totally broken condition of the Royalists, and of 'the various 
 factions which now convulsed the state, he showed how this might 
 be done without bloodshed or violence. From this topic he de- 
 scended to the propriety of keeping up the becoming state of the 
 Executive Government, in whose hands soever it should be lodged, 
 and thus showed Cromwell, as the future Stadtholder, or Consul, 
 or Lieutenant-General of Great Britain and Ireland, a prospect of 
 demesne and residences becoming his dignity. Then he naturally 
 passed to the disparking and destroying of the royal residences of 
 England, made a woeful picture of the demolition which impended 
 over Woodstock, and interceded for the preservation of that beauti- 
 ful seat, as a matter of personal favour, in which he found himself 
 deeply interested. 
 
 Colonel Everard, when he had finished his letter, did not find 
 himself greatly risen in his own opinion. In the course of his poli- 
 tical conduct, he had tiU his hour avoided mixing up personal 
 motives with his public grounds of action, and yet he now felt him- 
 self making such a composition. But he comforted himself, or at 
 least silenced this unpleasing recollection, with the consideration, 
 that the weal of Britain, studied under the aspect of the times, ab- 
 solutely required that Cromwell should be at the head of the 
 government ; and that the interest of Sir Henry Lee, or rather his 
 Safety and his existence, no less emphatically demanded the pre- 
 servation of Woodstock, and his residence there. Was it a fault of 
 his, that the same road should lead to both these ends, or that his 
 private interest, and that of the country, should happen to mix in 
 the same letter? He hardened himself, therefore, to the act, made 
 up and addressed his packet to the Lord General, and then sealed 
 
102 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 it with his seal of arms. This done, he lay back in his chair ; and 
 in spite of his expectations to the contrary, fell asleep in the course 
 of his reflections, anxious and harassing as they were, and did not 
 awaken until the cold grey light of dawn was peeping through the 
 astern oriel. 
 
 He started at first, rousing himself with the sensation of one who 
 awakes in a place unknown to him ; but the localities .instantly 
 forced themselves on his recollection. The lamp burning dimly 
 in the socket, the wood fire almost extinguished in its own 
 white embers, the gloomy picture over the chimney-piece, the sealed 
 packet on the table — all reminded him of the events of yesterday, 
 and his deliberations of the succeeding night. 
 
 " There is no help for it," he said ; " it must be Cromwell or 
 anarchy. And probably the sense that his title, as head of the 
 Executive Government, is derived merely from popular consent, 
 may check the too natural proneness of power to render itself 
 arbitrary. If he govern by Parliaments, and with regard to the 
 privileges of the subject, wherefore not Oliver as well as Charles ? 
 But I must take measures for having this conveyed safely to the 
 hands of this future sovereign prince. It will be well to take the 
 first word of influence with him, since there must be many who will 
 not hesitate to recommend counsels more violent and precipitate." 
 
 He determined to intrust the important packet to the charge of 
 Wildrake, whose rashness was never so distinguished, as when by 
 any chance he was left idle and unemployed ; besides, even if his 
 faith had not been otherwise unimpeachable, the obligations which 
 he owed to his friend Everard must have rendered it such. 
 
 These conclusions passed through Colonel EverardV mind, as, 
 collecting the remains of wood in the chimney, he gathered them 
 into a hearty blaze, to remove the uncomfortable feeling of chillness 
 which pervaded his Kmbs ; and by the time he was a little more 
 warm, again sunk into a slumber, which was only dispelled by the 
 beams of morning peeping into his apartment. 
 
 He arose, roused himself, walked up and down the room, and 
 looked from the large oriel window on the nearest objects, which 
 were the untrimmed hedges and neglected walks of a certain wilder- 
 ness, as it is called in ancient treatises on gardening, which, kept 
 of yore well ordered, and in all the pride of the topiary art, pre- 
 sented a succession of yew-trees cut into fantastic forms, of close 
 alleys, and of open walks, filling about two or three acres of ground 
 on that side of the Lodge, and forming a boundary between its im- 
 mediate precincts and the open Park. Its enclosure was now 
 broken down in many places, and the hinds with their fawns fed 
 free and unstartled up to the very windows of the silvan palace. 
 
 This had been a favourite scene of Markham's sports when a boy. 
 
WOODSTOCK, 103 
 
 He could still distinguisn, though now grown out of shape, the 
 verdant battlements of a Gothic castle, all created by the gardener's 
 shears, at which he was accustomed to shoot his arrows ; or, stalk- 
 ing before it like the knight-errants of whom he read, was wont to 
 blow his horn, and bid defiance to the supposed giant or Paynim 
 knight, by whom it was garrisoned. He remembered how he used 
 to train his cousin, though several years younger than himself, to 
 bear a part in those revels of his boyish fancy, and to play the 
 character of an elfin page, or a fairy, or an enchanted princess. He 
 remembered, too, many particulars of their later acquaintance, from 
 which he had been almost necessarily led to the conclusion, that 
 from an early period their parents had entertained some idea, that 
 there might be a well-fitted match betwixt his fair cousin and him- 
 self. A thousand visions, formed in so bright a prospect, had 
 vanished along with it, but now returned like shadows, to remind 
 him of all he had lost — and for what ? — " For the sake of England," 
 his proud consciousness rephed, — " Of England, in danger of be- 
 coming the prey at once of bigotry and tyranny." And he 
 strengthened himself with the recollection, " If I have sacrificed my 
 private happiness, it is that my country may enjoy liberty of con- 
 science, and personal freedom ; which, under a weak prince and 
 usurping statesman, she was but too likely to have lost." 
 
 But the busy fiend in his breast would not be repulsed by the bold 
 answer. " Has thy resistance," it demanded, " availed thy country, 
 Markham Everard ? Lies not England, after so much bloodshed, 
 and so much misery, as low beneath the sword of a fortunate soldier, 
 as formerly under the sceptre of an ^ encroaching prince ? Are 
 Parliament, or what remains of them, fitted to contend with a 
 leader, master of his soldiers' hearts, as bold and subtle as he is 
 impenetrable in his designs ? This General, who holds the arm)', 
 and by that the fate of the nation in his hand, will he lay down his 
 power because philosophy would pronounce it his duty to become a 
 subject ? " 
 
 He dared not answer that his knowledge of Cromwell authorised 
 him to expect any such act of self-denial. Yet still he considered 
 that in times of such infinite difficulty, that must be the best 
 government, however little desirable in itself, which should most 
 speedily restore peace to the land, and stop the wounds which the 
 contending parties were daily inflicting on each other. He ima- 
 gined that Cromwell was the only authority under which a steady 
 government could be formed, and therefore had attached himself to 
 his fortune, though not without considerable and recurring doubts, 
 how far serving the views of this impenetrable and mysterious 
 General was consistent with the principles under which he had 
 assumed arms. 
 
1-04 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 While these things passed in his mind, Everard looked upon the 
 packet which lay on the table addressed to the Lord General, and 
 ■which he had made up before sleep. He hesitated several times, 
 when he remembered its purport, and in what degree he must stand 
 committed with that personage, and bound to support his plans of 
 aggrandizement, when once that communication was in Oliver 
 Cromwell's possession. 
 
 " Yet it must be so," he said at last, with a deep sigh. " Among 
 the contending parties, he is the strongest — the wisest and most 
 moderate — and ambitious though he be, perhaps not the most dan- 
 gerous. Some one must be trusted with power to preserve and 
 enforce general order, and who can possess or wield such power 
 like him that is head of the victorious armies of England ? Come 
 what will in future, peace and the restoration of law ought to be our 
 first and most pressing object. This remnant of a parliament can- 
 not keep their ground against the army, by mere appeal to the 
 sanction of opinion. If they design to reduce the soldiery, it must 
 be by actual warfare, and the land has been too long steeped in 
 blood. But Cromwell may, and I trust will, make a moderate ac- 
 commodation with them, on grounds by which peace may be pre- 
 served ; and it is this to which we must look and trust for a settle- 
 ment of the kingdom, alas ! and for the chance of protecting my 
 obstinate kinsman from the consequences of his honest though 
 absurd pertinacity." 
 
 Silencing some internal feelings of doubt and reluctance by such 
 reasoning as this, Markham Everard continued in his resolution to 
 unite himself with Cromwell in the struggle which was evidently 
 approaching betwixt the civil and military authorities ; not as the 
 course which, if at perfect liberty, he would have preferred adopting, 
 but as the best choice between two dangerous extremities to which 
 the times had reduced him. He could not help trembling, how- 
 ever, when he recollected that his father, though hitherto the ad- 
 mirer of Cromwell, as the implement by whom so many marvels 
 had been wrought in England, might not be disposed to unite with 
 his interest against that of the Long Parliament, of which he had 
 been, till partly laid aside by continued indisposition, an active and 
 leading member. This doubt also he was obliged to swallow, or 
 strangle, as he might ; but consoled himself with the ready argu- 
 ment, that it was impossible his father could see matters in another 
 light than that in which they occurred to himself. 
 
WOODSTOCK, los 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Determined at length to dispatch his packet to the General 
 without delay, Colonel Everard approached the door of the 
 apartment, in which, as was evident from the heavy breathiijg 
 within, the prisoner Wildrake enjoyed a deep slumber, under the 
 influence of liquor at once and of fatigue. In turning the key, 
 the bolt, which was rather rusty, made a resistance so noisy, as 
 partly to attract the sleeper's attention, though not to awake him. 
 Everard stood by his bedside, as he heard him mutter, "Is it 
 morning already, jailer ? — Why, you dog, an you had but a cast 
 of humanity in you, you would qualify your vile news with a 
 cup of sack ; — hanging is sorry work, my masters — and sorrow's 
 dry." 
 
 " Up, Wildrake — up, thou ill-omened dreamer ! " said his friend, 
 shaking him by the collar. 
 
 " Hands off ! " answered the sleeper. — " I can climb a ladder 
 without help, I trow." — He then sat up in the bed, and opening his 
 eyes, stared around him, and exclaimed, " Zounds ! Mark, is it 
 only thou ? I thought it was all over with me — fetters were struck 
 from my legs — rope drawn round my gullet — irons knocked off 
 my hands — all ready for a dance in the open element upon slight 
 footing." 
 
 " Truce with thy folly, Wildrake ! Sure the devil of drink, to 
 whom thou hast, I think, sold thyself" 
 
 " For a hogshead of sack," interrupted Wildrake ; " the bargain 
 was made in a cellar in the Vintry." 
 
 " I am as mad as thou art, to trust any thing to thee," said 
 Markham ; " I scarce believe thou hast thy senses yet." 
 
 " What should ail me ? " said Wildrake — " I trust I have not 
 tasted liquor in my sleep, saving that I dreamed of drinking small- 
 beer with Old Noll, of his own brewing. But do not look so 
 glum, man — I am the same Roger Wildrake that I ever was ; as 
 wild as a mallard, but as true as a game-cock. I am thine own 
 chum, man — bound to thee by thy kind deeds — devinctus beneficio 
 — there is Latin for it ; and where is the thing thou wilt charge me 
 with, that I will not, or dare not execute, were it to pick the devil's 
 teeth with my rapier, after he had breakfasted upon roundheads ?" 
 
 " You will drive me mad," said Everard. — " When I am about 
 to intrust all I have most valuable on earth to your management, 
 your conduct and language are those of a mere Bedlamite. Last 
 night I made allowance for thy drunken fury ; but who can endure 
 
io5 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 thy morning madness ? — it is unsafe for thyself and me, Wildrake — 
 it is unkind — I might say ungrateful." 
 
 " Nay, do not say that, my friend," said the cavalier, with some 
 show of feeling; "and do not judge of me with a severity that 
 cannot apply to such as I am. We who have lost our all in these 
 sad jars, who are compelled to shift for our living, not from day 
 to day, but from meal to meal — we whose only hiding-place is the 
 jail, whose prospect of final repose is the gallows, — what canst thou 
 expect from us, but to bear such a lot with a light heart, since we 
 should break down under it with a heavy one ? " 
 
 This was spoken in a tone of feeling which found a responding 
 string in Everard's bosom. He took his friend's hand, and pressed 
 it kindly. 
 
 " Nay, if I seemed harsh to thee, Wildrake, I profess it was 
 for thine own sake more than mine. I know thou hast at the 
 bottom of thy levity, as deep a principle of honour and feeling as 
 ever governed a human heart. But thou art thoughtless — thou art 
 rash — and I protest to thee, that wert thou to betray thyself in this 
 matter in which I trust thee, the evil consequences to myself would 
 not afflict me more than the thought of putting thee into such 
 danger." 
 
 " Nay, if you take it on that tone, Mark," said the cavalier 
 making an effort to laugh, evidently that he might conceal a 
 tendency to a different emotion, " thou wilt make children of us 
 both — babes and sucklings, by the hilt of this bilbo. — Come, trust 
 me ; I can be cautious when time requires it — no man ever saw 
 me drink it when an alert was expected — and not one poor pint 
 of wine will I taste until I have managed this matter for thee. 
 Well, I am thy secretary — clerk — I had forgot — and carry thy 
 dispatches to Cromwell, taking good heed not to be surprised 
 or choused out of my lump of loyalty, [striking his finger on 
 the packet,] and I am to deliver it to the most loyal hands to 
 which it is most humbly addressed — ^Adzooks, Mark, think of 
 it a moment longer — Surely thou wilt not carry thy perverseness 
 so far, as to strike in with this bloody-minded rebel ? — Bid me 
 give him three inches of my dudgeon-dagger, and I will do it 
 much more willingly than present him with thy packet." 
 
 " Go to," repHed Everard, " this is beyond our bargain. If you 
 will help me, it is well : if not, let me lose no time in debating with 
 thee, since I think every moment an age till the packet is in the 
 General's possession. It is the only way left me to obtain some 
 protection, and a place of refuge, for my uncle and his daughter." 
 
 " That being the case," said the cavaUer, " I will not spare the 
 spur. My nag up yonder at the town will be ready for the road in 
 a tiice, and thou mayst reckon on my being with Old Noll— thy 
 
WOODSTOCK, 107 
 
 General, I mean — in as short time as man and horse may con- 
 sume betwixt Woodstock and Windsor, where I think I shall 
 for the present find thy friend keeping jDossession where ^e has 
 slain." 
 
 " Hush, not a word of that. Since we parted last night, I have 
 shaped thee a path which will suit thee better than to assume the 
 decency of language, aud of outward manner, of which thou hast so 
 little. I have acquainted the General that thou hast been by bad 
 example and bad education " 
 
 " Which is to be interpreted by contraries, I hope," said Wild- 
 rake ; " for sure I have been as well born and bred up as any lad 
 of Leicestershire might desire." 
 
 " Now, I prithee hush — thou hast, I say, by bad example, become 
 at one time a malignant, and mixed in the party of the late King. 
 But seeing what things were wrought in the | nation by the General, 
 thou hast come to a clearness touching his calling to be a great 
 implement in the settlement of these distracted kingdoms. This 
 account of thee will not only lead him to pass over some of thy 
 eccentricities, should they break out in spite of thee, but will also 
 give thee an interest with him as being more especially attached to 
 his own person." 
 
 " Doubtless," said Wildrake, " as every fisher loves best the 
 trouts that are of his own tickling." 
 
 " It is likely, I think, he will send thee hither with letters to 
 me," said the Colonel, " enabling me to put a stop to the pro- 
 ceedings of these sequestrators, and to give poor old Sir Henry 
 Lee permission to linger out his days among the oaks he loves to 
 look upon. I have made this my request to General Cromwell, 
 and I think my father's friendship and my own may stretch so far 
 on his regard without risk of cracking, especially standing matters 
 as they now do — thou dost understand ? " 
 
 " Entirely well," said the cavalier ; " stretch, quotha ! — I would 
 rather stretch a rope than hold commerce with the old King- 
 killing ruffian. But I have said I will be guided by thee, Markham, 
 and rat me but I will." 
 
 "Be cautious then," said Everard," "mark well what he does 
 and says — more especially what he does ; for Oliver is one of those 
 whose mind is better known by his actions than by his words — 
 and stay — I warrant thee thou wert setting off without a cross in 
 thy purse ? " 
 
 " Too true, Mark," said Wildrake, " the last noble melted last 
 night among yonder blackguard troopers of yours." 
 
 '•'Well, Roger," replied the Colonel, " that is easily mended." 
 So saying, he slipped his purse into his friend's hand. " But art 
 thou not an inconsiderate weather-brained fellow, to set forth, as 
 
io8 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 thou wert about to do, without anything to bear thy charges— what 
 couldst thou have done ? " 
 
 " Faith, I never thought of that— I must have cried Stand, I 
 suppose, to the first pursy townsman, or greasy grazier, that I 
 met o' the heath — it is many a good fellow's shift in these bad 
 times." 
 
 " Go to,'' said Everard ; " be cautious— use none of your loose 
 acquaintance — rule your tongue — beware of the wine-pot — for there 
 is little danger if thou couldst only but keep thyself sober — Be 
 moderate in speech, and forbear oaths or vaunting." 
 
 " In short, metamorphose myself into such a prig as thou art, 
 Mark ? — Well," said Wildrake, " so far as outside will go, I think 
 I can make a Hope-on-high Bomby * as well as thou canst. Ah ! 
 those were merry days when we saw Mills present Bomby at the 
 Fortune playhouse, Mark, ere I had lost my laced cloak and the 
 jewel in my ear, or thou hadst gotten the wrinkle on thy brow, and 
 the puritanic twist of thy mustache ! " 
 
 " They were like most worldly pleasures, Wildrake,'' replied 
 Everard, " sweet in the mouth and bitter in digestion. — But away 
 with thee ; and when thou bring'st back my answer, thou wilt find 
 me either here or at Saint George's Inn, at the little borough. — 
 Good luck to thee — Be but cautious how thou bearest thyself" 
 
 The Colonel remained in deep meditation. — " I think," he said, 
 " I have not pledged myself too far to the General A breach 
 between him and the Parliament seems inevitable, and would throw 
 England back into civil war, of which all men are wearied. He 
 may dislike my messenger — yet that I do not greatly fear. He 
 knows I would choose such as I can myself depend on, and hath 
 dealt enough with the stricter sort to be aware that there are among 
 them, as well as elsewhere, men who can hide two faces under one 
 hood." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 For there in lofty air was seen to stand 
 The stern Protector of the conquer'd land ; 
 Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore, 
 Turn'd out the members, and made fast the door. 
 Ridding the house of every knave and drone, 
 Forced — though it grieved his soul— to rule alone. 
 
 The Frank Courtship. — Crabbe. 
 
 Leaving Colonel Everard to his meditations, we follow the jolly 
 cavalier, his companion, who, before mountuig at the George, did 
 
WOODSTOCK. 109 
 
 not fail to treat himself to his morning draught of eggs and 
 muscadine, to enable him to face the harvest wind. 
 
 Although he had suffered himself to be sunk in the extravagant 
 license which was practised by the cavaliers, as if to oppose their 
 conduct in every point to the preciseness of their enemies, yet 
 Wildrake, well-born and well-educated, and endowed with good 
 natural parts, and a heart which even debauchery, and the wild 
 life of a roaring cavalier, had not been able entirely to corrupt, 
 moved on his present embassy with a strange mixture of feelings, 
 such as perhaps he had never in his life before experienced. 
 
 His feelings as a loyalist led him to detest Cromwell, whom in 
 other circumstances he would scarce have wished to see, except in 
 a field of battle, where he could have had the pleasure to exchange 
 pistol shots with him. But with this hatred there was mixed a 
 certain degree of fear. Always victorious wherever he fought, 
 the remarkable person whom Wildrake was now approaching had 
 acquired that influence over the minds of his enemies, which con- 
 stant success is so apt to inspire — they dreaded while they hated 
 him — and joined to these feelings, was a restless meddling curiosity, 
 which made a particular feature in Wildrake's character, who, 
 having long had little business of his own, and caring nothing 
 about that which he had, was easily attracted by the desire of seeing 
 whatever was curious or interesting around him. 
 
 " I should like to see the old rascal after all," he said, " were it but 
 to say that I had seen him." 
 
 He reached Windsor in the afternoon, and felt on his arrival the 
 strongest inclination to take up his residence at some of his old 
 haunts, when he had occasionally frequented that fair town in 
 gayer days. But resisting all temptations of this kind, he went 
 courageously to the principal inn, from which its ancient emblem, 
 the Garter, had long disappeared. The master, too, whom Wild- 
 rake, experienced in his knowledge of landlords and hostelries, 
 had remembered a dashing Mine Host of Queen Bess's school, had 
 now sobered down to the temper of the times, shook his head 
 when he spoke of the Parliament, wielded his spigot with the 
 gravity of a priest conducting a sacrifice, wished England a happy 
 issue out of all her afflictions, and greatly lauded his Excellency the 
 Lord General. Wildrake also remarked, that his wine was better than 
 it was wont to be, the Puritans having an excellent gift at detecting 
 every fallacy in that matter ; and that his measures were less and 
 his charges larger — circumstances which he was induced to attend 
 to, by mine host talking a good deal about his conscience. 
 
 He was told by this important personage, that the Lord General 
 received frankly all sorts of persons ; and that he might obtain 
 r.ccess to him next morning, at eight o'clock, for the trouble of 
 
HO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 presenting himself at the Castle-gate, and announcing himself as 
 the bearer of dispatches to his Excellency. 
 
 To the Castle the disguised cavalier repaired at the hour ap- 
 pointed. Admittance was freely permitted to him by the red- 
 coated soldier, who, with austere looks, and his musket on his 
 shoulder, mounted guard at the external gate of that noble building. 
 Wildrake crossed through the under ward, or court, gazing as he 
 passed upon the beautiful Chapel, which had but lately received, 
 in darkness and silence, the unhonoured remains of the slaughtered 
 King of England. Rough as Wildrake was, the recollection of this 
 circumstance affected him so strongly, that he had nearly turned 
 back in a sort of horror, rather than face the dark and daring 
 man, to whom, amongst all the actors in that melancholy affair, 
 its tragic conclusion was chiefly to be imputed. But he felt the 
 necessity of subduing aU sentiments of this nature, and compelled 
 himself to proceed in a negotiation intrusted to his conduct by 
 one to whom he was so much obliged as Colonel Everard. At 
 the ascent, which passed by the Round Tower, he looked to the 
 ensign-staff, from which the banner of England was wont to float. 
 It was gone, with all its rich emblazonry, its gorgeous quarterings, 
 and splendid embroidery ; and in its room waved that of the 
 Commonwealth, the Cross of Saint George, in its colours of blue 
 and red, not yet intersected by the diagonal cross of Scotland, 
 which was soon after assumed, as if in evidence of England's 
 conquest over her ancient enemy. This change of ensigns in- 
 creased the train of his gloomy reflections, in which, although 
 contrary to his wont, he became so deeply wrapped, that the 
 first thing which recalled him to himself, was the challenge 
 from the sentinel, accompanied with a stroke of the but of his 
 musket on the pavement, with an emphasis which made Wildrake 
 start. 
 
 " Whither away, and who are you ? " 
 
 " The bearer of a packet-'-' answered Wildrake, " to the worship- 
 ful the Lord General." 
 
 " Stand till I call the officer of the guard." 
 
 The corporal made his appearance, distinguised above those of 
 his command by a double quantity of band round his neck, a 
 double height of steeple-crowned hat, a larger allowance of cloak, 
 and a treble proportion of sour gravity of aspect. It might be read 
 on his countenance, that he was one of those resolute enthusiasts 
 to whom Oliver owed his conquests, whose religious zeal made 
 them even more than a match for the high-spirited and high-born 
 cavaliers, that exhausted their valour in vain defence of their sove- 
 reign's person and crown. He looked with grave solemnity at Wild- 
 rake, as if he was making in his own mind an inventory of his 
 
WOODSTOCK, HI 
 
 features and dress ; and having fully perused them, he required 
 " to know his business." 
 
 "My business," said Wildrake, as firmly as he could — ^for the 
 close investigation of this man had given him some unpleasant 
 nervous sensations — " my business is with your General." 
 
 "With his Excellency the Lord General, thou wouldst say?" 
 replied the corporal. " Thy speech, my friend, savours too little of 
 the reverence due to his Excellency." 
 
 " D — n his Excellency ! " was at the lips of the cavalier ; but 
 prudence kept guard, and permitted not the offensive words to 
 escape the barrier. He only bowed, and was silent. 
 
 " Follow me," said the starched figure whom he addressed ; and 
 Wildrake followed him accordingly, into the guard-house, which 
 exhibited an interior characteristic of the times, and very different 
 from what such military stations present at the present day. 
 
 By the fire sat two or three musketeers, listening to one who was 
 expounding some religious mystery to them. He began half be- 
 neath his breath, but in tones of great volubility, which tones, as 
 he approached the conclusion, became sharp and eager, as chal- 
 lenging either instant answer or silent acquiescence. The audi- 
 ence seemed to listen to the speaker with immovable features, only 
 answering him with clouds of tobacco-smoke, which they rolled 
 from under their thick mustaches. On a bench lay a soldier on his 
 face ; whether asleep, or in a fit of contemplation, it was impossible 
 to decide. In the midst of the floor stood an ofiicer, as he seemed 
 by his embroidered shoulder-belt and scarf round his waist, other- 
 wise very plainly attired, who was engaged in drilling a stout 
 bumpkin, lately enlisted, to the manual, as it was then used. The 
 motions and words of command were twenty at the very least ; and 
 until they were regularly brought to an end, the corporal did not 
 permit Wildrake either to sit down, or move forward beyond the 
 threshold of the guard-house. So he had to listen in succession to 
 — Poise your musket — Rest your musket — Cock your musket — 
 Handle your primers — and many other forgotten words of disci- 
 pline, until at length thi words, " Order your musket," ended the 
 drill for the time. 
 
 " Thy name, friend ? " said the ofiicer to the recruit, when the 
 lesson was over. 
 
 " Ephraim," answered the fellow, with an affected twang through 
 the nose. 
 
 " And what besides Ephraim ? " 
 
 " Ephraim CcJbb, from the godly city of Glocester, where I have 
 dwelt for seven years, serving apprentice to a praiseworthy cord- 
 wainer." 
 
 " It is a goodly craft," answered the officer; "but casting in thy 
 
112 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 lot with ours, doubt not that thou shalt be set beyond thine awl, and 
 thy last to boot." 
 
 A grim smile of the speaker accompanied this poor attempt at 
 a pun ; and then turning round to the corporal, who stood two 
 paces off, with the face of one who seemed desirous of speaking, 
 said, " How now, corporal, what tidings ? " 
 
 " Here is one with a packet, an please your Excellency," said the 
 corporal — " Surely my spirit doth not rejoice in him, seeing I esteem 
 him as a wolf in sheep's clothing." 
 
 By these words, Wildrake learned that he was in the actual 
 presence of the remarkable person to whom he was commissioned ; 
 and he paused to consider in what manner he ought to address 
 him. 
 
 The figure of Oliver Cromwell was, as is generally known, in 
 no way prepossessing. He was of middle stature, strong, and 
 coarsely made, with harsh and severe features, indicative, however, 
 of much natural sagacity and depth of thought. His eyes were 
 grey and piercing ; his nose too large in proportion to his other 
 features, and of a reddish hue. , 
 
 His manner of speaking, when he had the purpose to make him- 
 self distinctly understood, was energetic and forcible, though neither 
 graceful nor eloquent. No man could on such occasions put his 
 meaning into fewer and more decisive words. But when, as it 
 often happened, he had a mind to play the orator, for the benefit of 
 people's ears, without enlightening their understanding, Cromwell 
 was wont to invest his meaning, or that which seemed to be his 
 meaning, in such, a mist of words, surrounding it with so many 
 exclusions and exceptions, and fortifying it with such a labyrinth of 
 parentheses, that though one of the most shrewd men in England, 
 he was, perhaps, the most unintelligible speaker that ever perplexed 
 an audience. It has been long since said by the historian, that a 
 collection of the Protector's speeches would make, with a few ex- 
 ceptions, the most nonsensical book in the world ; but he ought to 
 have added, that nothing could be more nervous, concise, and in- 
 telligible than what he really intended should be understood. 
 
 It was also remarked of Cromwell, that though born of a good 
 family, both by father and mother, and although he had the usual 
 opportunities of education and breeding connected with such an 
 advantage, the fanatic democratic ruler could never acquire, or else 
 disdained to practise, the courtesies usually exercised among the 
 higher classes in their intercourse with each other. His demean- 
 our was so blunt as sometimes might be termed clawnish, yet there 
 was in his language and manner a force and energy correspond- 
 ing to his character, which impressed awe, if it did not impose 
 respect ; and there were even times when that dark and subtle 
 
WOODSTOCK. 113 
 
 spirit expanded itself, so as almost to conciliate affection. The 
 turn for humour, which displayed itself by fits, was broad, and of a 
 low, and sometimes practical character. Something there was in 
 his disposition congenial to that of his countrymen ; a contempt of 
 folly, a hatred of affectation, and a dislike of ceremony, which, joined 
 to the strong intrinsic qualities of sense and courage, made him in 
 many respects not an unfit representative of the democracy of 
 England. 
 
 His religion must always be a subject of much doubt, and prob- 
 ably of doubt which he himself could hardly have cleared up. 
 Unquestionably there was a time in his life when he was sincerely 
 enthusiastic, and when his natural temper, slightly subject to hypo- 
 chondria, was strongly agitated by the same fanaticism which 
 influenced so many persons of the time. On the other hand, there 
 were periods during his political career, when we certainly do him 
 no injustice in charging him with a hypocritical affectation. We 
 shall probably judge him, and others of the same age, most truly, 
 if we suppose that their religious professions were partly influential 
 in their own breast, partly assumed in compliance with their own 
 interest. And so ingenious is the "human heart in deceiving itself 
 as well as others, that it is probable neither Cromwell himself, nor 
 those making similar pretensions to distinguished piety, could ex- 
 actly have fixed the point at which their enthusiasm terminated and 
 their hypocrisy commenced ; or rather, it was a point not fixed 
 in itself, but fluctuating with the state of health, of good or bad 
 fortune, of high or low spirits, affecting the individual at the 
 period. 
 
 Such was the celebrated person, who, turning round on Wild- 
 rake, and scanning his countenance closely, seemed so little satis- 
 fied witli what he beheld, that he instinctively hitched forward his 
 belt, so as to bring the handle of his tuck-sword within his reach. 
 But yet, folding his arms in his cloak, as if upon second thoughts 
 laying aside suspicion, or thinking precaution beneath him, he 
 asked the cavalier what he was, and whence he came ? 
 
 "A poor gentleman, sir, — that is, my lord," — ^answered Wild- 
 rake ; " last from Woodstock." 
 
 "And what may your tidings be, sir gentleman ?" said Cromwell, 
 with an emphasis. " Truly I have seen those most willing to take 
 upon them that title, bear themselves somewhat short of wise 
 men, and good men, and true men, with all their gentihty : Yet 
 gentleman was a good title in old England, when men remembered 
 what it was construed to mean." 
 
 " You say truly, sir," replied Wildrake, suppressing, with diffi- 
 culty, some of his usual wild expletives ; "formerly gentlemen 
 were found in gentlemen's places, but now the world is so changed, 
 
 I 
 
114 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 that you shall find the broidered belt has changed place with the 
 under spur-leather." 
 
 "Sa/st thou me ? " said ffle General ; " I profess thou art a bold 
 companion, that can bandy words so wantonly ;— thou ring'st 
 somewhat too loud to be good metal, methinks : And once again 
 what are thy tidings with me ? " 
 
 " This packet," said Wildrake, " commended to your hands by 
 Colonel Markham Everard." 
 
 " Alas, I must have mistaken thee," answered Cromwell, moDi- 
 fied at the mention of a man's name whom he had great desire 
 to make his own ; " forgive us, good friend, for such, we doubt not, 
 thou art. Sit thee down, and commune vnth thyself as thou mayst, 
 until we have examined the contents of thy packet. Let him be 
 looked to, and have what he lacks." So saying, the General left 
 the guard-house, where Wildrake took his seat in the corner, and 
 awaited with patience the issue of his mission. 
 
 The soldiers now thought themselves obliged to treat him with 
 more consideration, and offered him a pipe of Trinidado, and a 
 black jack filled with October. But the look of Cromwell, and 
 the dangerous situation in which he might be placed by the least 
 chance of detection, induced Wildrake to decline these hospitable 
 offers, and stretching back in his chair, and affecting slumber, he 
 escaped notice or conversation, until a sort of aide-de-camp, or 
 military officer in attendance, came to summon him to Cromwell's 
 presence. 
 
 By this person he was guided to a postern-gate, through which 
 he entered the body of the Castle, and penetrating through many 
 private passages and staircases, he at length was introduced into a 
 small cabinet or parlour, in which was much rich furniture, some 
 bearing the royal cipher displayed, but all confused and disar- 
 ranged, together with several paintings in massive frames, having 
 their faces turned towards the wall, .as if they had been taken 
 down for the purpose of being removed. 
 
 In this scene of disorder, the victorious General of the Common- 
 wealth was seated in a large easy-chair, covered with damask, and 
 deeply embroidered, the splendour of which made a strong con- 
 trast with the plain, and even homely character of his apparel ; 
 although in look and action he seemed like one who felt that the 
 seat which might have in former days held a prince, was not -too 
 much distinguished for his own fortunes and ambition. Wildrake 
 stood before him, nor did he ask him to sit down. 
 
 " Pearson," said Cromwell, addressing himself to the officer in 
 attendance, "wait in the gallery, but be within call." Pearson 
 bowed, and was retiring. " Who are in the gallery besides ? " 
 
 " Worthy Mr. Gordon, the chaplain, was holding forth but now 
 
WOODSTOCK. 115 
 
 to Colonel Overton, and four captains of your Excellency's regi- 
 ment." 
 
 " We would have it so," said the General ; " we would not there 
 were any corner in our dwelling where the hungry soul might not 
 meet with manna. Was the good man carried onward in his dis- 
 course ? " 
 
 " Mightily borne through," said Pearson ; " and he was touching 
 the rightful claims which the anny, and especially your Excellency, 
 hath acquired, by becoming the instruments in the great work ; — 
 not instruments to be broken asunder and cast away when the day 
 of their service is over, but to be preserved and held precious, and 
 prized for their honourable and faithful labours, for which they 
 have fought and marched, and fasted and prayed, and suffered 
 cold and Sorrow ; while others, who would now glad>/ see them 
 disbande d, and broken, and cashiered, eat of the fat and drink of 
 the strong." 
 
 " Ah, good man ! " said Cromwell, " and did he touch upon this 
 so feelingly? I could say something — but not now. Begone, 
 Pearson, to the gallery. Let not our friends lay aside their swords, 
 but watch as well as pray." 
 
 Pearson retired ; and the General, holding the letter of Everard 
 in his hand, looked again for a long while fixedly at Wildrake, a 
 if considering in what strain he should address him. 
 
 When he did speak, it was, at first, in one of those ambiguous 
 discourses which we have already described, and by which it ■s'as 
 very difficult for any one to understand his meaning, if, indeed, 
 he knew it himself. We shall be as concise in our statement, as 
 our desire to give the very words of a man so extraordinary will 
 permit. 
 
 " This letter," he said, " you have brought us from your master, 
 or patron, Markham Everard ; truly an excellent and honourabb 
 gentleman as ever bore a sword upon his thigh, and one who hath 
 ever distinguished himself in the great work of delivering these 
 three poor and unhappy nations. Answer me not : I know what 
 thou wouldst say. — And this letter he hath sent to me by thee, his 
 clerk, or secretary, in whom he hath confidence, and in whom he 
 prays me to have trust, that there may be a careful messenger be- 
 tween us. And lastly, he hath sent thee to me. Do not answer — 
 I know what thou wouldst say, — to me, who, albeit I am of that 
 small consideration, that it would be too mu;'i honour for rrie even 
 to bear a halberd in this great and victorious army of England, am 
 nevertheless exalted to the rank of holding the guidance and the 
 leading-staff thereof. — Nay, do not answer, my friend — I know 
 what thou wouldst say. Now, when communing thus together, 
 our discourse taketh, in respect to what I have said, a threefold 
 
 I 3 
 
ii6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 argument, or division : First, as it concerneth thy master; secondly, 
 as it concerneth us .and our office; thirdly and lastly, as it toucheth 
 thyself. — Now, as concerning this good and worthy gentleman. 
 Colonel Markham Everard, truly he hath played the man from the 
 beginning of these unhappy buffetings, not turning to the right or 
 to the left, but holding ever in his eye the mark at which he aimed. 
 Ay, truly, a faithful, honourable gentleman, and one who may well 
 call me friend ; and truly I am pleased to think that he doth so. 
 Nevertheless, in this vale of tears, we must be governed less by 
 our private respects and partialities, than by those higher prin- 
 ciples and points of duty, whereupon the good Colonel Markham 
 Everard hath ever framed his purposes, as, truly, I have en- 
 deavoured to form mine, that we may all act as becometh good 
 Englishmen and worthy patriots. Then, as for Woodstock, it is a 
 great thing which the good Colonel asks, that it should be taken 
 from the spoil of the godly, and left in keeping of the men of Moab, 
 and especially of the malignant, Henry Lee, whose hand hath been 
 ever against us when he might find room to raise it ; I say,, he 
 hath asked a great thing, both in respect of himself and me. For 
 we of this poor but godly army of England, are holden", by those 
 of the Parliament, as men who should render in spoil for them, but 
 be no sharer of it ourselves ; even as the buck, which the hounds 
 pull to earth, furnisheth no part of their own foodj but they are 
 lashed off from the carcass with whips, like those which require 
 punishment for their forwardness, not reward for their services. 
 Yet I speak not this so much in respect of this grant of Woodstock, 
 in regard that, perhaps, their Lordships of the Council, and also the 
 Committee-men of this Parliament, may graciously think they have 
 given me a portion in the matter, in relation that my kinsmen 
 Desborough hath an interest allowed him therein ; which interest, 
 as he hath well deserved it for his true and faithful service to these 
 unhappy and devoted countries, so it would ill become me to 
 diminish the same to his prejudice, unless it were upon great and 
 public respects. Thus thou seest how it stands with me, my honest 
 friend, and lin what mind I stand touching thy master's request to 
 me ; which yet I do not say that I can altogether, or uncondition- 
 ally, grant or refuse, but only tell my simple thoughts with regard 
 thereto. Thou understandest me, I doubt not ?" 
 
 Now, Roger Wildrake, with all the attention he had been able 
 to pay to the Lord General's speech, had got so much confused 
 among the various clauses of the harangue, that his brain was 
 bewildered, like that of a country clown when he chances to get 
 himself involved among a crowd of carriages, and cannot stir a 
 step to get out of the way of one of them, without being in danger 
 of being ridden over by, the others. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 117 
 
 The General saw his look of perplexity, and began a new oration, 
 to the same purpose as before ; — spoke of his love for his kind 
 friend the Colonel, — his regard for his pious and godly kinsman, 
 Master Desborough, — the great importance of the Palace and Park 
 of Woodstock, — the determination of the Parliament that it should 
 be confiscated, and the produce brought into the coffers of the 
 state,^ — his own deep veneration for the authority of Parliament, 
 and his no less deep sense of the injustice done to the army, — how 
 it was his wish and will that all matters should be settled in an 
 amicable and friendly manner, without self-seeking, debate, 01^ 
 strife, betwixt those who had been the hands acting, and such as 
 had been the heads governing, in that great national cause, — 
 how he was wiUing, truly willing, to contribute to this work, by 
 laying down, not his commission only, but his life also, if it were 
 requested of him, or could be granted with safety to the poor 
 soldiers, to whom, silly poor men, he was bound to be as a father, 
 seeing that they had followed him with the duty and affection of 
 children. 
 
 And here he arrived at another dead pause, leaving Wildrake as 
 uncertain as before, whether it was or was not his purpose to grant 
 Colonel Everard the powers he had asked for the protection of 
 Woodstock against the Parliamentary Commissioners. Internally 
 he began to entertain hopes [that the justice of Heaven, or the 
 effects of remorse, had confounded the regicide's understanding. 
 But no — ^he could see nothing but sagacity in that steady stern 
 eye, which, while the tongue poured forth its periphrastic language 
 in such profusion, seemed to watch with severe accuracy the effect 
 which his oratory produced on the listener. 
 
 " Egad," thought the cavalier to himself, becoming a little 
 familiar with the situation in which he was placed, and rather 
 impatient of a conversation which led to no visible conclusion or 
 termination, " if Noll were the devil himself, as he is the devil's 
 darling, I will not be thus nose-led by him. I'll e'en brusque it a 
 little, if he goes on at this rate, and try if I can bring him to a 
 more intelligible mode of speaking." 
 
 Entertaining this bold purpose, but half afraid to execute it, 
 Wildrake lay by for an opportunity of making the attempt, while 
 Cromwell was apparently unable to express his own meaning. He 
 was already beginning a third panegyric upon Colonel Everard, 
 with sundry varied expressions of his own wish to oblige him, 
 when Wildrake took the opportunity to strike in, on the General's 
 making one of his oratorical pauses. 
 
 " So please you," he said, bluntly, " your worship has already 
 spoken on two topics of your discourse, your own worthiness, and 
 that of my master. Colonel Everard, But, to enable me to do 
 
118 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 mine errand, it would be necessary to bestow a few words on the 
 third head." 
 
 " The third ! " said Cromwell. 
 
 •' Ay," said Wildrake, " which, in your honour's subdivision of 
 your discourse, touched on my unworthy self. What am I to do — 
 what portion am I to have in this matter ? " 
 
 Oliver started at once from the tone of voice he had hitherto 
 used, and which somewhat resembled the purring of a domestic 
 cat, into the growl of the tiger when about; to spring. " Thy por- 
 tion, jail-bird ! " he exclaimed, " the gallows — thou shalt hang as 
 high as Haman, if thou betray counsel !— But," he added, softening 
 his voice, "keep it like a true man, and my favour will be the 
 making of thee. Come hither — thou art bold, I see, though some- 
 what saucy. Thou hast been a malignant — so writes my worthy 
 friend Colonel Everard ; but thou hast now given up that falling 
 cause. I tell thee, friend, not all that the Parliament or the army 
 could do would have, pulled down the Stewarts out of their high 
 places, saving that Heaven had a controversy with them. Well, 
 it is a sweet and comely thing to buckle on one's armour in behalf 
 of Heaven's cause ; otherwise truly, for mine own part, these men 
 might have remained upon the throne even unto this day. Neither 
 do I blame any for aiding them, until these successive great judg- 
 ments have overwhelmed them and their house. I am not a bloody 
 man, having in me the feeling of human frailty ; but, friend, who- 
 soever putteth his hand to the plough, in the great actings which 
 are now on foot in these nations had best beware that he do not. 
 look back ; for, rely upon my simple word that if you foil me, I 
 will not spare on you one foot's length of the gallows of Haman. 
 Let me therefore know, at a word, if the leaven of thy malignancy 
 is altogether drubbed out of thee ? " 
 
 " Your honourable lordship," said the cavalier, shrugging up his 
 shoulders, " has done that for most of us, so far as cudgelling to 
 some tune can perform it." 
 
 " Sayst thou?" said the General, with a grim smile on his lip, 
 which seemed to intimate that he was not quite inaccessible to 
 flattery ; " yea, truly, thou dost not lie in that — we have been an 
 instrument. Neither are we, as I have already hinted, so severely 
 bent against those who have striven against us as malignants, as 
 others may be. The parliament-men best know their own interest 
 and their own pleasure ; but, to my poor thinking, it is full time to 
 close these jars, and to allow men of all kinds the means of doing 
 service to their country ; and we think it will be thy fault if thou 
 art not employed to good purpose for the state and thyself, on con- 
 dition thou puttest away the old man entirely from thee, and givest 
 thy earnest attention to what I have to tell thee." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 119 
 
 " Your lordship need not doubt my attentictn," said the cavaUer. 
 
 And the republican General, after another pause, as one who 
 gave his confidence not without hesitation, proceeded to explain 
 his views with a distinctness which he seldom used, yet not with- 
 out his being a little biassed now and then, by his long habits of 
 circumlocution, which indeed he never laid entirely aside, save in 
 the field of battle. 
 
 " Thou seest," he said, " my friend, how things stand with me. 
 The Parliament, I care not who knows it, love me not — still less do 
 the Council of State, by whom they manage the executive govern- 
 ment of the kingdom. I cannot tell why they nourish suspicion 
 against me, unless it is because I will not deliver this poor inno- 
 cent army, which has followed me in so many military actions, to 
 be now pulled asunder, broken piecemeal and reduced, so that they 
 who have protected the state at the expense of their blood, will 
 not have, perchance, the means of feeding themselves by their 
 labour ; which, methinks, were hard measure, since it is taking 
 from Esau his birthright, even without giving him a poor mess of 
 pottage." 
 
 " Esau is likely to help himself, I think," replied Wildrake. 
 
 " Truly, thou sayst wisely," replied the General ; " it is ill starv- 
 ing gn armed man, if there is food to be had for taking — never- 
 theless, far be it from me to encourage rebellion, or want of due 
 subordination to these our rulers. I would only petition in a due and 
 becoming, a sweet and harmonious manner, that they would listen 
 to our conditions, and consider our necessities. But, sir, looking on 
 me, and estimating me so little as they do, you must think that it 
 would be a provocation in me towards the Council of State, as well 
 as the Parliament, if, simply to gratify your worthy master, I were 
 to act contrary to their purposes, or deny currency to the commis- 
 sion under their authority, which is as yet the highest in the State 
 —and long may it be so for me— to carry on the sequestration which 
 they intend. And would it not also be said, that I was lending 
 myself to the malignant interest, affording this den of the blood- 
 thirsty and lascivious tyrants of yore, to be in this our day a place 
 of refuge to that old and inveterate Amalekite, Sir Henry Lee, to 
 keep possession of the place in which he hath so long glorified him- 
 self? Truly it would be a perilous matter." 
 
 " Am I then to report," said Wildrake, " an it please you, that 
 you cannot stead Colonel Everard in this matter ? " 
 
 " Unconditionally, ay — but, taken conditionally, the answer may 
 be otherwise," — answered Cromwell. " I see thou art not able to 
 fathom my purpose, and therefore I will partly unfold it to thee. 
 —But take notice, that, should thy tongue betray my council, save 
 in so far as carrying it to thy master, by all the blood which has 
 
120 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 been shed in these wild times, thou shalt die a thousand deaths 
 in one ! " 
 
 " Do not fear me, sir," said Wildrake, whose natural boldness 
 and carelessness of character was for the present time borne down 
 and quelled, like that of falcons in the presence of the eagle. 
 
 " Hear me, then," said Cromwell, " and let no syllable escape 
 thee. Knowest thou not the young Lee whom they call Albert, a 
 malignant like his father, and one who went up with the young man 
 to that last ruffle which we had with him at Worcester — May we 
 be grateful for the victory ! " 
 
 " I know there is such a young gentleman as Albert Lee," said 
 Wildrake. 
 
 " And knowest thou not — I speak not by way of prying into the 
 good Colonel's secrets, but only as it behoves me to know something 
 of the matter, that I may best judge how I am to serve him^- 
 Knowest thou not that thy master, Markham Everard, is a suitor 
 after the sister of this same malignant, a daughter of the old Keeper, 
 called Sir Henry Lee?" 
 
 " All this I have heard,'' said Wildrake, " nor can I deny that I 
 believe in it." 
 
 " Well then, go to. — When the young man Charles Stewart fled 
 from the field of Worcester, and was by sharp chase and pursuit 
 compelled to separate himself from his followers, I know by sure 
 intelligence that this Albert Lee was one of the last who remained 
 with him, if indeed not the very last." 
 
 " It was devilish like him," said the cavalier, without sufficiently 
 weighing his expressions, considering in what presence they were 
 to be uttered — " And I'll uphold him with my rapier, to be a true 
 chip of the old block ! " 
 
 " Ha, swearest thou ?" said the General. " Is this thy reforma- 
 tion?" 
 
 " I never swear, so please you," replied Wildrake, recollecting 
 himself, " except there is some mention of malignants and cavaliers 
 in my hearing ; and then the old habit returns, and I swear like one 
 of Goring's troopers." 
 
 "Out upon thee," said the General; "what can it avail thee to 
 practise a profanity so horrible to the ears of others, and which 
 brings no emolument to him who uses it ? " 
 
 " There are, doubtless, more profitable sins in the world than the 
 barren and unprofitable vice of swearing," was the answer which 
 rose to the lips of the cavalier ; but that was exchanged for a pro- 
 fession of regret for having given ofience. The truth was, the dis- 
 course began to take a turn which rendered it more interesting 
 than ever to Wildrake, who therefore determined not to lose the 
 opportunity for obtaining possession of the secret that seemed to be 
 
WOODSTOCK, 121 
 
 suspended on Cromwell's lips; 'and that could only be through 
 means of keeping guard upon his own. 
 
 " What sort of a house is Woodstock ? " said the General, ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " An old mansion," said Wildrake, in reply ; " and, so far as I 
 can judge by a single night's lodgings, having abundance of back- 
 stairs, also subterranean passages, and all the communications 
 under ground, which are common in old raven-nests of the sort. 
 
 "And places for concealing priests, unquestionably," said Crom- 
 well. " It is seldom that such ancient houses lack secret stalls 
 wherein to mew up these calves of Bethel." 
 
 "Your Honour's Excellency," said Wildrake, "may swear to 
 that." 
 
 " I swear not at all," replied the General drily. — " But what 
 think'st thou, good fellow ? — I will ask thee a blunt question — 
 Where will those two Worcester fugitives that thou wettest of be 
 more likely to take shelter — and that they must be sheltered some- 
 where, I well know — than in this same old palace, with all the 
 corners and concealments whereof young Albert hath been ac- 
 quainted ever since his earliest infancy ? " 
 
 " Truly," said Wildrake, making an effort to answer the question 
 with seeming indifference, while the possibility of such an event, 
 and its consequences, flashed fearfully upon his mind, — " Truly, I 
 should be of your honour's opinion, but that I think the company, 
 who, by the commission of Parliament, have occupied Woodstock, 
 are likely to fright them thence, as a cat scares doves from a 
 pigeon-house. The neighbourhood, with reverence, of Generals 
 Desborough and Harrison, will suit ill with fugitives from Worcester 
 field." 
 
 " I thought as much, and so, indeed, would I have it," answered 
 the General. " Long may it be ere our names shall be aught but 
 a terror to our enemies ! But in this matter, if thou art an active 
 plotter for thy master's interest, thou mightst, I should think, work 
 out something favourable to his present object." 
 
 " My brain is too poor to reach the depth of your honourable 
 purpose," said Wildrake. 
 
 " Listen then, and let it be to profit," answered Cromwell. " As- 
 suredly the conquest at Worcester was a great and crowning 
 mercy ; yet might we seem to be but small in our thankfulness for 
 the same, did we not do what in us lies towards the ultimate im- 
 provement and final conclusion of the great work which has been 
 thus prosperous in our hands, professing, in pure humility and single- 
 ness of heart, that we do not, in any way, deserve our instrumen- 
 tality to be remembered, nay, would rather pray and entreat, that 
 our name and fortunes were forgotten, than that the great work 
 
123 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 were in itself incomplete. Nevertheless, truly, placed as we now 
 are, it concerns us more nearly than others, — that is, if so poor 
 creatures should at all speak of themselves as concerned, whether 
 more or less, with these changes which have been wrought around 
 not, I say, by ourselves, or our own power, but by the destiny to 
 which we were called, fulfilling the same with all meekness and 
 humility, — I say it concerns us nearly that all things should be 
 done in conformity with the great work which hath been wrought, 
 and is yet working, in these lands. Such is my plain and simple 
 meaning. Nevertheless, it is much to be desired that this young 
 man, this King of Scots, as he called himself — this Charles Stewart 
 — should not escape forth from the nation, where his arrival has 
 wrought so much disturbance and bloodshed." 
 
 " I have no doubt," said the cavalier, looking down, " that your 
 lordship's wisdom hath directed all things as they may best lead 
 towards such a consummation ; and I pray your pains may be paid 
 as they deserve." 
 
 " I thank thee, friend," said Cromwell, with much humility ; 
 " doubtless we shall meet our reward, being in the hands of a good 
 paymaster, who never passeth Saturday night. But understand 
 me, friend — I desire no more than my own share in the good work. 
 I would heartily do what poor kindness I can to your worthy 
 master, and even to you in your degree — for such as I do not con- 
 verse with ordinary men, that our presence may be forgotten like 
 an every-da/s occurrence. We speak to men like thee for their 
 reward or their punishment ; and I trust it will be the former which 
 thou in thine office wilt merit at my hand." 
 
 " You honour," said Wildrake, " speaks like one accustomed to 
 command." 
 
 " True ; men's minds are linked to those of my degree by fear 
 and reverence," said the General ! — " but enough of that, desiring, 
 as I do, no other dependency on my special person than is alike to 
 us all upon that which is above us. But I would desire to cast this 
 golden ball into your master's lap. He hath served against this 
 Charles Stewart and his father. But he is a kinsman near to the 
 old knight, Lee, and stands well affected towards his daughter. 
 Thou also wilt keep a watch, my friend — that ruffling look of thine 
 will procure thee the confidence of every malignant, and the prey 
 cannot approach this cover, as though to shelter, like a cony in the 
 rocks, but thou wilt be sensible of his presence." 
 
 " I make a shift to comprehend you Excellency," said the 
 cavaher ; " and I thank you heartily for the good opinion you have 
 put upon me, and which, I pray I may have some handsome oppor- 
 tunity of deserving, that I may show my gratitude by the event. 
 But still, with reverence, your Excellency's scheme seems unlikely, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 123 
 
 while Woodstock remains in possession of the sequestratorsf Both 
 the old knight and his son, and far more such a fugitive as your 
 honour hinted at, will take special care not to approach it till they 
 are removed." 
 
 " It is for that I have been dealing with thee thus long," said the 
 General. — " I told thee that I was something unwilling, upon 
 slight occasion, to dispossess the sequestrators by my own proper 
 warrant, although having, perhaps, sufficient authority in the state 
 both to do so, and to despise the murmurs of those who blame me. 
 In brief, I would be loath to tamper with my privileges, and make 
 .experiments between their strength, and the powers of the commis- 
 sion granted by others, without pressing need, or at least great 
 prospect of advantage. So, if thy Colonel will undertake, for his 
 love of the Republic, to find the means of preventing its worst and 
 nearest danger, which must needs occur from the escape of this 
 young man, and will do his endeavour to stay him, in case his 
 flight should lead him to Woodstock, which I hold very likely, I 
 will give thee an order to these sequestrators, to evacuate the palace 
 instantly ; and to the next troop of my regiment, which lies at 
 Oxford, to turn them out by the shoulders, if they make any scruples 
 — Ay, even, for example's sake, if they drag Desborough out fore- 
 most, though he be wedded to my sister." 
 
 " So please you, sir," said Wildrake, " and with your most power- 
 ful warrant, I trust I might expel the commissioners, even without 
 the aid of your most warlike and devout troopers." 
 
 " That is what I am least anxious about," replied the General ; 
 " I should like to see the best of them sit after I had nodded to 
 them to begone — always excepting the worshipful House, in whose 
 name our commissions run ; but who, as some think, will be done 
 with politics ere it be time to renew them. Therefore, what chiefly 
 concerns me to know, is, whether thy master will embrace a traffic 
 which hath such a fair promise of profit with it. I am well con- 
 vinced that, with a scout like thee, who hast been in the cavalier's 
 quarters, and canst, I should guess, resume thy drinking, ruffianly, 
 health-quaffing manners whenever thou hast a mind, he must dis- 
 cover where this Stewart hath ensconced himself. Either the 
 young Lee will visit the old one in person, or he will write to him, 
 or hold communication with him by letter. At all events, Markham 
 Everard and thou must have an eye in every hair of your head." 
 While he spoke, a flush passed over his brow, he rose from his 
 chair, and paced the apartment in agitation. " Woe to you, if you 
 suffer the young adventurer to escape me I — you had better be in 
 the deepest dungeon in Europe, than breathe the air of England, 
 should you but dream of playing me false. I have spoken freely to 
 thee, fellow — more freely than is my wont — the time required it. 
 
124 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 But, to share my confidence is like keeping a watch over a powder- 
 magazine, the least and most insignificant spark blows thee to 
 ashes ! Tell your master what I have said — but not how I said it — 
 Fie, that I should have been betrayed into this distemperature of 
 passion ! — begone, sirrah. Pearson shall bring thee sealed orders 
 — Yet, stay — thou hast something to ask." 
 
 " I would know," said Wildrake, to whom the visible anxiety of 
 the General gave some confidence, "what is the figure of this 
 young gallant, in case I should find him ? " 
 
 " A taU, rawboned, swarthy lad, they say he has shot up into. 
 Here is his picture by a good hand, some time since." He turned 
 round one of the portraits which stood with its face against the 
 wall ; but it proved not to be that of Charles the Second, but of his 
 unhappy father. 
 
 The first motion of Cromwell indicated a purpose of hastily re- 
 placing the picture, and it seemed as if an effort was necessary to 
 repress his disinclination to look upon it. But he did repress it, 
 and, placing the picture against the wall, withdrew slowly and 
 sternly, as if, in defiance of his own feelings, he was determined to 
 gain a place from which to see it to advantage. It was well for 
 Wildrake that his dangerous companion had not turned an eye on 
 him, for his blood also kindled when he saw the portrait of his 
 master in the hands of the chief author of his death. Being a fierce 
 and desperate man, he commanded his passion with great difficulty ; 
 and if, on its first violence, he had been provided with a suitable 
 weapon, it is possible Cromwell would never have mounted higher 
 in his bold ascent towards supreme power. 
 
 But this natural and sudden flash of indignation, which rushed 
 through the veins of an ordinary man like Wildrake, was presently 
 subdued, when confronted with the strong yet stifled emotion dis- 
 played by so powerful a character as Cromwell. As the cavalier 
 looked on his dark and bold countenance, agitated by inward and 
 indescribable feelings, he found his own violence of spirit die away 
 and lose itself in fear and wonder. So true it is, that as greater 
 lights swallow up and extinguish the display of those which are less, 
 so men of great, capacious, and overruling minds, bear aside and 
 subdue, in their climax of passion, the more feeble wills and pas- 
 sions of others ; as, when a riyer joins a brook, the fiercer torrent 
 shoulders aside the smaller stream. 
 
 Wildrake stood a silent, inactive, and almost a terrified spectator, 
 while Cromwell, assuming a firm sternness of eye and manner, as 
 one who compels himself to look on what some strong internal feel- 
 ing renders painful and disgustful to him, proceeded, in brief and 
 interrupted expressions, but yet with a firm voice, to comment on 
 the portrait of the late King. His words seemed less addressed to 
 
c ^/.y/r./'i'^e^i.'y'.. ^ias^^-. y&'//<ar'7/' ^y-^ hz: 
 
WOODSTOCK. 123 
 
 Wildrake, than to be the spontaneous unburdening of his own 
 bosom, swelling under recollection of the past and anticipation of 
 the future. 
 
 "That Flemish painter," he said— "that Antonio Vandyke— 
 what a power he has ! Steel may mutilate, warriors may waste and 
 destroy— still the King stands uninjured by time ; and our grand- 
 children, while they read his history, may look on his image, and 
 compare the melancholy features with the woful tale.— It was a 
 stern necessity — it was an awful deed ! The calm pride of that eye 
 might have ruled worlds of crouching Frenchmen, or supple 
 Italians, or formal Spaniards ; but its glances only roused the 
 native courage of the stern Englishman. — Lay not on poor sinful 
 man, whose breath is in his nostrils, the blame that he falls, when 
 Heaven never gave him strength of nerves to stand ! The weak 
 rider is thrown by his unruly horse, and trampled to death — the 
 strongest man, the best cavalier, springs to the empty saddle, and 
 uses bit and spur till the fiery steed knows its master. Who blames 
 him, who, mounted aloft, rides triumphantly amongst the people, 
 for having succeeded, where the unskilful and feeble fell and died ? 
 Verily he hath his reward : Then, what is that piece of painted 
 canvas to me more than others ? No ; let him show to others the 
 reproaches of that cold, calm face, that proud yet complaining eye : 
 Those who have acted on higher respects have no cause to start at 
 painted shadows. Not wealth nor power brought me from my 
 obscurity. The oppressed consciences, the injured liberties of 
 England, were the banner that I followed." 
 
 He raised his voice so high, as if pleading in his own defence 
 before some tribunal, that Pearson, the officer in attendance, looked 
 into the apartment ; and observing his master, with his eyes kind- 
 ling, his arm extended, his foot advanced, and his voice raised, like 
 a general in the act of commanding the advance of his army, he 
 instantly withdrew. 
 
 " It was other than selfish regards that drew me forth to action," 
 continued Cromwell, " and I dare the world— ay, living or dead I 
 challenge — to assert that I armed for a private cause, or as a means 
 of enlarging my fortunes. Neither was there a trooper in the regi- 
 ment who came there with less of personal evil will to yonder un- 
 happy " 
 
 At this moment the door of the apartment opened, and a gentle- 
 woman entered, who, from her resemblance to the General, although 
 her features were soft and feminine, might be immediately recog- 
 nised as his daughter. She walked up to Cromwell, gently but 
 firmly passed her arm through his, and said to him in a persuasive 
 tone " Father, this is not well — you have promised me this should 
 not happen." 
 
126 vvuvJl^iSlUt-K.. 
 
 The Genornl hung down his head, like one who was either 
 ashamed of the passion to which he had given way, or of the influ. 
 ence which was exercised over him. He yielded, however, to the 
 affectionate impulse, and left the apartment, without again turning 
 his head towards the portrait which had so much affected him, or 
 looking towards Wildrake, who remained fixed in astonishment. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Dostor. — Go to, go to — You have known what you should not. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Wildrake wa§ left in the cabinet, as we have said, astonished 
 and alone. It was often noised about, that Cromwell, the deep and 
 sagacious statesman, the calm and intrepid commander, he who 
 had overcome such difficulties, and ascended to such heights, that 
 he seemed already to bestride the land which he had conquered, 
 had, like many other men of great genius, a constitutional taint of 
 melancholy, which sometimes displayed itself both in words and 
 actions, and had been first observed in that sudden and striking 
 change, when, abandoning entirely the dissolute freaks of his youth, 
 he embraced a very strict course of religious observances, which, 
 upon some occasions, he seemed to consider as bringing him into 
 more near and close contact with the spiritual world. This extra- 
 ordinary man is said sometimes, during that period of his life, to 
 have given way to spiritual delusions, or, as he himself conceived 
 thercf, prophetic inspirations of approaching grandeur, and of 
 strange, deep, and mysterious agencies, in which he was in future 
 to be engaged, in the same manner as his younger years had been 
 marked by fits of exuberant and excessive frolic and debaucheries. 
 Something of this kind seemed to explain the ebullition of passion 
 which he had now manifested. 
 
 With wonder at what he had witnessed, Wildrake felt some 
 anxiety on his own account. Though not the most reflecting of 
 mortals, he had sense enough to know, that it is dangerous to be a 
 witness of the infirmities of men high in power ; and he was left so 
 long by himself, as induced him to entertain some secret doubts, 
 whether the General might not be tempted to take means of con- 
 fining or removing a witness, who had seen him lowered,, as it 
 seemed, by the suggestions of his own conscience, beneath that 
 lofty flight, which, in general, he affected to sustain above the rest 
 of the sublunary world. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 127 
 
 In this, however, he wronged Cromwell, who was free either from 
 an extreme degree of jealous suspicion, or from any thing which 
 approached towards blood-thirstiness. Pearson appeared, after a 
 lapse of about an hour, and, intimating to Wildrake that he was to 
 follow, conducted him into a distant apartment, in which he found 
 the General seated on a low couch. His daughter was in the 
 apartment, but remained at some distance, apparently busied with 
 some female needle-work, and scarce turned her head as Pearson 
 and Wildrake entered. 
 
 At a sign from the Lord General, Wildrake approached him as 
 before. " Comrade," he said, " your old friends the cavaliers look 
 on me as their enemy, and conduct themselves towards ra? as if 
 they desired to make me such. I profess they are labouring to 
 their own prejudice ; for I regard, and have ever regarded them, as 
 honest and honourable fools, who were silly enough to run their 
 necks into nooses, and their heads against stone-walls, that a man 
 called Stewart, and no other, should be king over them. Fools ! 
 are there no words made of letters that would sound as well as 
 Charles Stewart, with that magic title beside them ? Why, the word 
 King is like a lighted lamp, that throws the same bright gilding 
 upon any conjbination of the alphabet, and yet you must shed your 
 blood for a name ! But thou, for thy part, shalt have no wrong 
 from me. Here is an order, well warranted, to clear the Lodge at 
 Woodstock, and abandon it to thy master's keeping, or those whom 
 he shall appoint. He will have his uncle and pretty cousin with 
 him, doubtless. Fare thee well — think on what I told thee. They 
 say beauty is a loadstone to yonder long lad, thou dost wot of ; but 
 I reckon he has other stars at present to direct his course than 
 bright eyes and fair hair. Be it as it may, thou knowest my pur- 
 pose—peer out, peer out ; keep a constant and careful look-out on 
 every ragged patch that wanders by hedge-row or lane — these are 
 days when a beggar's cloak may cover a king's ransom. There are 
 some broad Portugal pieces for thee — something strange to thy 
 pouch, I ween. — Once more, think on what thou hast heard,' and," 
 he added, in a lower and more impressive tone of voice, " forget 
 what thou hast seen. My service to thy master ; — and, yet once 
 again, remember — and forget." — Wildrake made his obeisance, 
 and, returning to his inn, left Windsor with all possible speed. 
 
 It was afternoon in the same day when the cavalier rejoined his 
 roundhead friend, who was anxiously expecting him at the inn in 
 Woodstock appointed for their rendezvous. 
 
 " Where hast thou been ? — what hast thou seen ? — what strange 
 uncertainty is in thy looks ? — and why dost thou not answer me ? " 
 
 " Because," said Wildrake, laying aside his riding cloak and 
 rapier, " you ask so many questions at once. A man has but one 
 
128 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 tongue to answer with, and mine is well nigh glued to the roof of 
 my mouth." 
 
 Will drink unloosen it ? " said the Colonel ; " though I dare say 
 thou hast tried that spell at every alehouse on the road. Call for 
 what thou wouldst have, man, only be quick." 
 
 " Colonel Everard," answered Wildrake, " I have not tasted so 
 much as a cup of cold water this day." 
 
 " Then thou art out of humour for that reason,'' said the Colonel ; 
 "salve thy sore with brandy, if thou wilt, but leave being so 
 fantastic and unlike to thyself as thou showest in this silent mood." 
 
 " Colonel Everard," replied the cavalier, very gravely, " I am an 
 altered man." 
 
 " I think thou dost alter," said Everard, " every day in the year, 
 and every hour of the day. Come, good now, tell me, hast thou 
 seen the General, and got his warrant for clearing out the seques- 
 trators from Woodstock ? " 
 
 " I have seen the devil," said Wildrake, " and have, as thou 
 sayst, got a warrant from him." 
 
 " Give it me," said Everard, hastily catching at the packet. 
 
 ]" Forgive me, Mark," said Wildrake ; " if thou knewest the pur- 
 pose with which this deed is granted — if thou knewest — what it is 
 not my purpose to tell thee — what manner of hopes are founded on 
 thy accepting it, I have that opinion of thee, Mark Everard, that 
 thou would'st as soon take a redhot horseshoe from the anvil with 
 thy bare hand, as receive into it this slip of paper." 
 
 " Come, come," said Everard, " this comes of some of your ex- 
 alted ideas of loyalty, which, excellent within certain bounds, drive 
 us mad when encouraged up to some heights. Do not think, since 
 I must needs speak plainly with thee, that I see without sorrow the 
 downfall of our ancient monarchy, and the substitution of another 
 form of government in its stead ; but ought my regret for the past 
 to prevent my acquiescing and aiding in such measures as are likely 
 to settle the future ? The royal cause is ruined, hadst thou and 
 every cavalier in England sworn the contrary ; ruined, not to rise 
 again,— for many a day at least. The Parliament, so often 
 draughted and drained of those who were courageous enough to 
 maintain their own freedom of opinion, is now reduced to a handful 
 of statesmen, who have lost the respect of the people, from the 
 length of time during which they have held the supreme manage- 
 ment of affairs. They cannot stand long unless they were to reduce 
 the army ; and the army, late servants, are now masters, and will 
 refuse to be reduced. They know their strength, and that they may 
 be an army subsisting on pay and free quarters throughout Eng- 
 land as long as they will. I tell thee, Wildrake, unless we look to 
 the only man who can rule and manage them, we may expect mili- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 129 
 
 tary law throughout the land ; and I, for mine own part, look for 
 any preservation of our privileges that may be vouchsafed to us, 
 only through the wisdom and forbearance of Cromwell. Now you 
 have my secret. You are aware that I am not doing the best I 
 would, but the best I can. I wish— not so ardently as thou, per- 
 haps — yet I do wish that the King could have been restored on good 
 terms of composition, safe for us and for himself. And now, good 
 Wildrake, rebel as thou thinkest me, make me no worse a rebel 
 than an unwilling one. God knows, I never laid aside love and 
 reverence to the King, even in drawing my sword against his ill 
 advisers." 
 
 " Ah, plague on you,'' said Wildrake, " that is the very cant of 
 it— that's what you all say. All of you fought against the King in 
 pure love and loyalty, and not otherwise. However, I see your 
 drift, and I own that I like it better than I expected. The army 
 is your bear now, and old Noll is your bearward ; and you are like 
 a country constable, who makes interest with the bearward that he 
 may prevent him from letting bruin loose. Well, there may come 
 a day when the sun will shine on our side of the fence, and thereon 
 shall you, and all the good fair-weather folks who love the stronger 
 party, come and make common cause with us." 
 
 Without much attending to what his friend said, Colonel Eve- 
 rard carefully studied the warrant of Cromwell. " It is bolder and 
 more peremptory than I expected," he said. " The General must 
 feel himself strong, when he opposes his own authority so directly 
 to that of the Council of State and the Parliament." 
 
 " You will not hesitate to act upon it ? " said Wildrake. 
 
 " That I certainly will not," answered Everard ; " but 1 must 
 wait till I have the assistance of the Mayor, who, I think, will 
 gladly see these fellows ejected from the Lodge. I must not go 
 altogether upon military authority, if possible." Then, stepping 
 to the door of the apartment, he dispatched a servant of the house 
 in quest of the Chief Magistrate, desiring he should be made 
 acquainted that Colonel Everard desired to see him with as little 
 loss of time as possible. 
 
 " You are sure he will come, like a dog at a whistle," said Wild- 
 rake. " The word captain, or colonel, makes the fat citizen trot 
 in these days, when one sword is worth fifty corporation charters. 
 But there are dragoons yonder, as well as the grim-faced knave 
 whom I frightened the other evening when I showed my face in at 
 the window. Think'st thou the knaves will show no rough play ?" 
 
 " The General's warrant will weigh more with them than a dozen 
 Acts of Parliament," said Everard. — " But it is time thou eatest, if 
 thou hast in truth ridden from Windsor hither without baiting." 
 
 " I care not about it," said Wildrake : " I tell thee, your General 
 
 K 
 
rgj WOODSTOCK. 
 
 gave me a breakfast, which, I think, will serve me one while, if I 
 am ever able to digest it. By the mass, it lay so heavy on my con- 
 science, that I carried it to church to see if I could digest it there 
 with my other sins. But not a whit." 
 
 "To church ! — To the door of the church, thou meanest," said 
 Everard. " I know thy way— thou art ever wont to pull thy hat 
 off. reverently at the threshold, but for crossing it, that day seldom 
 comes." 
 
 " Well," replied Wildrake, " and if I do pull off my castor and 
 kneel, is it not seemly to shew the same respects in a church which 
 we offer in a palace ? It is a dainty matter, is it not, to see your 
 Anabaptists, and Brownists, and the rest of you, gather to a sermon 
 with as little ceremony as hogs to a trough ? But here comes 
 food, and now for a grace,- if I can remember one." 
 
 Everard was too much interested about the fate of his uncle and 
 his fair cousin, and the prospect of restoring them to their quiet 
 home, under the protection of that formidable truncheon which was 
 already regarded as the leading-staff of England, to remark, that 
 certainly a great alteration had taken place in the manners and 
 outward behaviour at least of his companion. His demeanour 
 frequently evinced a sort of struggle betwixt old habits of indul- 
 gence, and some newly formed resolutions of abstinence ; and it 
 was almost ludicrous to see how often the hand of the neophyte 
 directed itself naturally to a large black leathern jack, which con- 
 tained two double ilagons of strong ale, and how often, diverted 
 from its purpose by the better reflections of the reformed toper, it 
 seized, instead, upon a large ewer of salubrious and pure water. 
 
 It was not difficult to see that the task of sobriety was not yet 
 become easy, and that, if it had the recommendation of the intel- 
 lectual portion of the party who had resolved upon it, the outward 
 man yielded a reluctant and restive compliance. But honest Wil- 
 drake had been dreadfully frightened at the course proposed to 
 him by Cromwell, and, with a feeling not peculiar to the Catholic 
 religion, had formed a solemn resolution within his own mind, 
 that, if he came off safe and with honour from this dangerous in- 
 terview, he would show his sense of Heaven's favour, by renouncing 
 some of the sins which most easily beset him, and-especially that 
 of intemperance, to which, like many of his wild compeers, he was 
 too much addicted. 
 
 This resolution, or vow, was partly prudential as well as re- 
 ligious ; for it occurred to him as very possible, that some matters 
 of a difficult and delicate nature might be thrown into his hands at 
 the present emergency, during the conduct of which it would be 
 fitting for him to act by some better oracle than that of the Bottle, 
 celebrated by Rabelais. In full compliance with this prudent 
 
WOODSTOCK. 131 
 
 determination, he touched neither the ale nor the brandy which 
 were placed before him, and declined peremptorily the sack with 
 which his friend would have garnished the board. Nevertheless, 
 just as the boy removed the trenchers and napkins, together with 
 the large black-jack which we have already mentioned, and was 
 one or two steps on his way to the door, the sinewy arm of the 
 cavalier, which seemed to elongate itself on purpose (as it extended 
 far beyond the folds of the threadbare jacket), arrested the pro- 
 gress of the retiring Ganymede, and seizing on the black-jack, 
 conveyed it to the lips, which were gently breathing forth the 
 aspiration, " D — n — I mean. Heaven forgive me — we are poor 
 creatures of clay — one modest sip must , be permitted to our 
 frailty." 
 
 So murmuring, he glued the huge- flagon to his lips, and as the 
 head was slowly and gradually inclined backwards in proportion 
 as the right hand elevated the bottom of the pitcher, Everard 
 had great doubts whether the drinker and the cup were likely to 
 part until the whole contents of the latter had been transferred to 
 the person of the former. Roger Wildrake stinted, however, when 
 by a moderate computation, he had swallowed at one draught 
 about a quart and a half. 
 
 He then replaced it on the salver, fetched a long breath to re- 
 fresh his lungs, bade the boy get him gone with the rest of the 
 liquors, in a tone which inferred some dread of his constancy, and 
 then, turning to his friend Everaf-d, he expatiated in praise of 
 moderation, observing that the mouthful which he had just taken 
 had been of more service to him than if he had remained quaffing 
 healths at table for four hours together. 
 
 His friend made no reply, but could not help being pTivately of 
 opinion that Wildrake's temperance had done as much execution 
 on the tankard in his single draught, as some more moderate topers 
 might have effected if they had sat sipping for an evening. But 
 the subject was changed by the entrance of the landlord, who came 
 to announce to his honour Colonel Everard, that the worshipful 
 Mayor of Woodstock, with the Rev. Master Holdenough, were 
 come to wait upon him. 
 
 K 3 
 
132 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ■ Here we have one head 
 
 Upon two bodies — your two-headed bullock 
 
 Is but an ass to such a prodigy. 
 
 These two have but one meaning, thought, and counsel ; 
 
 And, when the single noddle has spoke out. 
 
 The four legs scrape assent to 't. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 In the goodly form of the honest Mayor, there was a bustling 
 mixture of importance and embarrassment, like the deportment of 
 a man who was conscious that he had an important part to act, if 
 he could but exactly discover what that part was. But both were 
 mingled with much pleasure at seeing Everard, and he frequently 
 repeated his welcomes and all-hails before he could be brought to 
 attend to what that gentleman said in reply. 
 
 " Good, worthy Colonel, you are indeed a desirable sight to 
 Woodstock at all times, being, as I may say, almost our townsman, 
 as you have dwelt so much and so long at the palace. Truly, the 
 matter begins almost to pass ray wit, though I have transacted the 
 affairs of this borough for many a long day j and you are come to 
 my assistance like, like " 
 
 " Tanquam Deus ex macMna, as the Ethnic poet hath it," said 
 Master Holdenough, " although I do not often quote from such 
 books. — Indeed, Master Markham Everard — or worthy Colonel, 
 as I ought rather to say — you are simply the most welcome man 
 who has come to Woodstock since the days of old King Harry." 
 
 " I had some business with you, my good friend," said the Colonel, 
 addressing the Mayor ; " I shall be glad if it should so happen at 
 the same time, that I may find occasion to pleasure you or your 
 worthy pastor." 
 
 " No question you can do so, good sir," interposed Master Hold- 
 enough ; " you have the heart, sir, and you have the hand ; and we 
 are much in want of good counsel, and that from a man of action. 
 I am aware, worthy Colonel, that you and your worthy father have 
 ever borne yourselves in these turmoils like men of a truly Chris- 
 tian and moderate spirit, striving to pour oil into the wounds of the 
 land, which some would rub with vitriol and pepper ; and we know 
 you are faithful children of that church which we have reformed 
 from its papistical and prelatical tenets." 
 
 " My good and reverend friend," said Everard, " I respect the 
 piety and learning of many of your teachers ; but I am also for 
 
WOODSTOCK. 133 
 
 liberty of conscience to all men. I neither side with sectaries, 
 nor do I desire to see them the object of suppression by violence." 
 
 " Sir, sir," said the Presbyterian, hastily, " all this hath a fair 
 sound ; but I would you should think what a fine country and 
 church we are like to have of it, amidst the errors, blasphemies, and 
 schisms, which are daily introduced into the church and kingdom 
 of England, so that worthy Master Edwards, in his Gangrena, de- 
 clareth, that our native country is about to become the very sink 
 and cess-pool of all schisms, heresies, blasphemies, and confusions, 
 as the army of Hannibal was said to be the refuse of all nations — 
 Colluvies omnium getititim. — Believe me, worthy Colonel, that they 
 of the Honourable House view all this over lightly, and with the 
 winking connivance of old Eli. These instructors, the schismatics, 
 shoulder the orthodox ministers out of their pulpits, thrust them- 
 selves into families, and break up the peace thereof, stealing away 
 men's hearts from the established faith." 
 
 " My good Master Holdenough," replied the Colonel, interrupt- 
 ing the zealous preacher, " there is ground of sorrow for all these 
 unhappy discords ; and I hold with you, that the fiery spirits of the 
 present time have raised men's minds at once above sober-minded 
 and sincere religion, and above decorum and common sense. But 
 there is no help save patience. Enthusiasm is a stream that may 
 foam off in its own time, whereas it is sure to bear down every bar- 
 rier which is directly opposed to it. — But what are these schismati- 
 cal proceedings to our present purpose ? " 
 
 "Why, partly this, sir," said Holdenough, "although perhaps 
 you may make less of it than I should have thought before we met. 
 — I was myself — I, Nehemiah Holdenough, [he added consequen- 
 tially,] was forcibly expelled from my own pulpit, even as a man 
 should have been thrust out of his own house, by an alien, and an 
 intruder, a wolf, who was not at the trouble even to put on sheep's 
 clothing, but came in his native wolfish attire of buff and bando- 
 leer, and held forth in my stead to the people, who are to me as a 
 flock to the lawful shepherd. It is too true, sir — Master Mayor 
 saw it, and strove to take such order to prevent it as man might, — 
 though," turning to the Mayor, " I think still you might have striven 
 a little more." 
 
 " Good now, good Master Holdenough, do not let us go back on 
 that question," said the Mayor. " Guy of Warwick, or Bevis of 
 Hampton, might do something with this generation ; but truly, 
 they are too many and too strong for the Mayor of Woodstock." 
 
 " I think Master Mayor speaks very good sense," said the Colonel ; 
 " if the Independents are not allowed to preach, I fear me they 
 will not fight ; — and then if you were to have another rising of 
 cavaliers ? " 
 
134 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "There are worse folks may rise than cavaliers," said Hold- 
 enough. 
 
 "How, sir?" replied Colonel Everard. "Let me remind you, 
 Master Holdenough, that is no safe language in the present state of 
 the nation." 
 
 " I say," said the Presbyterian, " there are worse folk may rise 
 than cavaliers ; and I will prove what I say. The devil is worse 
 than the worst cavalier that ever drank a health, or swore an oath — 
 and the devil has arisen at Woodstock Lodge ! " 
 
 " Ay, truly iath he," said the Mayor, " bodily and visibly, in 
 figure and form — An awful time we live in ! " 
 
 " Gentlemen, I really know not how I am to understand you,'' 
 said Everard. 
 
 " Why, it was even about the devil we came to speak with you," 
 said the Mayor ; " but the worthy minister is always so hot upon 
 the sectaries " — ■_ — 
 
 " Which are the devil's brats and nearly akin to him,'' said Mas- 
 ter Holdenough. " But true it is, that the growth of these sects 
 has brought up the Evil One even upon the face of the earth, to 
 look after his own interest, where he finds it most thriving." 
 
 " Master Holdenough," said the Colonel, " if you speak figura- 
 tively, I have already told you that I have neither the means nor 
 the skill sufficient to temper these religious heats. But if you 
 design to say that there has been an actual apparition of the 
 devil, I presume to think that you, with your doctrine and your 
 learning, would be a fitter match for him than a soldier like me." 
 
 " True, sir ; and I have that confidence in the commission which 
 I hold, that 1 would take the field against the foul fiend without a 
 moment's delay," said Holdenough ; " but the place in which be 
 hath of late appeared, being Woodstock, is filled with those dan- 
 gerous and impious persons, of whom I have been but now com- 
 plaining ; and though, confident in my own resources, I dare venture 
 in disputation with their Great Master himself, yet without your 
 protection, most worthy Colonel, I see not that I may with prudence 
 trust myself with the tossing and goring ox Desborough, or the 
 bloody and devouring bear Harrison, or the cold and poisonous 
 snake Bletson — all of whom are now at the Lodge, doing license 
 and taking spoil as they think meet ; and, as all men say, the devil 
 has come to make a fourth with them." 
 
 "In good truth, worthy and noble sir," said the Mayor, "it is 
 even as Master Holdenough says— our privileges are declared void, 
 our cattle seized in the very pastures. Tliey talk of cutting down 
 and disparking the fair Chase, which has been so long the pleasure 
 of so many kings, and making Woodstock of as little note as any 
 •paltry village. I assure you we heard of your arrival with joy, and 
 
WOODSTOCK, 13s 
 
 wondered at your keeping yourself so close in your lodgings. We 
 know no one save your father or you, that are like to stand the 
 poor burgesses' friend in this extremity, since almost all the gentry 
 around are malignants, and under sequestration. We trust, there- 
 fore, you will make strong intercession in our behalf." 
 
 " Certainly, Master Mayor," said the Colonel, who saw himself 
 with pleasure anticipated ; " it was my very purpose to have 
 interfered in this matter ; and I did but keep myself alone 
 until I should be furnished with some authority from the Lord 
 General." ; 
 
 " Powers from the Lord General ! " said the Mayor, thrusting the 
 clergyman with his elbow — "Dost thou hear that?; — What cock 
 will fight that cock? We shall carry it now over their necks, and 
 Woodstock shall be brave Woodstock still ! " 
 
 " Keep thine elbow from my side, friend," said Holdenough, an- 
 noyed by the action which the Mayor had suited to his words ; 
 " and may the Lord send that Cromwell prove not as sharp to the 
 people of England as thy bones against my person ! Yet I approve 
 that we should use his authority to stop the course of these men's 
 proceedings." 
 
 " Let us set out, then," said Colonel Everard ; " and I trust we 
 shall find the gentlemen reasonable and obedient." 
 
 The functionaries, laic and clerical, assented with much joy ; and 
 the Colonel required and received Wildrake's assistance in putting 
 on his cloak and rapier, as if he had been the dependent whose 
 part he acted. The cavalier contrived, however, while doing him 
 these menial offices, to give his friend a shrewd pinch, in order to 
 maintain the footing of secret equality betwixt them. 
 
 The Colonel was saluted, as they passed through the streets, by 
 many of the anxious inhabitants, who seemed to consider his inter- 
 vention as affording the only chance of saving their fine Park, and 
 the rights of the corporation, as well as of individuals, from ruin 
 and confiscation. 
 
 As they entered the Park, the Colonel asked his companions, 
 " What is this you say of apparitions being seen amongst them ? " 
 
 "Why, Colonel," said the clergyman,. " you know yourself that 
 Woodstock was always haunted ! " 
 
 " I have lived therein many a day," said the Colonel ; " and I 
 know that I never saw the least sign of it, although idle people 
 spoke of the house as they do of all old mansions, and gave the 
 apartments ghosts and spectres to fill up the places of as many of 
 the deceased great, as had ever dwelt there." 
 
 " Nay, but, good Colonel," said the clergyman, " I trust you have 
 not reached the prevailing sin of the times, and become indifferent 
 to the testimony in favour of apparitions, which appears so conclu- 
 sive to all but atheists, and advocates for witches ? '' 
 
I36 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " I would not absolutely disbelieve what is so generally affirmed," 
 said the Colonel ; " but my reason leads me to doubt most of the 
 stories which I have heard of this sort, and my own experience 
 never went to confirm any of them." 
 
 " Ay, but trust me," said Holdenough, " there was always a 
 demon of one or the other species about this Woodstock. Not a 
 man or woman in the town but has heard stories of apparitions in 
 the forest, or about the old castle. Sometimes it is a pack of 
 hounds, that sweep along, and the whoops and hollows of the 
 huntsmen, and the winding of horns and the galloping of horse, 
 which is heard as if first more distant, and then close around you 
 — and then anon it is a solitary huntsman, who asks if you can 
 tell him which way the stag is gone. He is always dressed in 
 green ; but the fashion of his clothes is some five hundred years 
 old. This is what we call Demon Meridianum — the noonday 
 spectre." 
 
 " My worthy and reverend sir," said the Colonel, " I have lived 
 at Woodstock many seasons, and have traversed the Chase at all 
 hours. Trust me, what you hear from the villagers, is the growth 
 of their idle folly and superstition." 
 
 "Colonel," replied Holdenough, "a negative proves nothing. 
 What signifies, craving your pardon, that you have not seen any 
 thing, be it earthly, or be it of the other world, to detract from the 
 evidence of a score of people who have ? — And, besides, there is 
 the Demon Nocturnum — the being that walketh by night — He has 
 been among these Independents and schismatics last night. — Ay, 
 Colonel, you may stare ; but it is even so — they may try whether 
 he will mend their gifts, as they f)rofanely call them, of exposition 
 and prayer. No, sir, I trow, to master the foul fiend there goeth 
 some competent knowledge of theology, and an acquaintance of 
 the humane letters, ay, and a regular clerical education, and 
 clerical calling." 
 
 " I do not in the least doubt," said the Colonel, " the efficacy of 
 your qualifications to lay the devil ; but still I think some odd mis- 
 take has occasioned this confusion amongst them, if there has any 
 such in reality existed. Desborough is a blockhead, to be sure ; 
 and Harrison is fanatic enough to believe any thing. But there is 
 Bletson, on the other hand, who believes nothing. — What do you 
 Jinow of this matter, good Master Mayor i^" 
 
 " In sooth, and it was Master Bletson who gave the first alarm," 
 replied the magistrate, " or, at least, the first distinct one. You see, 
 sir, I was in bed with my wife, and no one else ; and I was as fast 
 asleep as a man can desire to be at two hours after midnight, 
 when, behold you, they came knocking at my bedroom door, to 
 tell me there was an alarm in Woodstock, and that the bell of the 
 
WOODSTOCK. 137 
 
 Lodge was ringing at that dead hour of the night, as hard as ever it 
 rung when it called the Court to dinner." 
 
 " Well, but the cause of this alarm ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " You shall hear, worthy Colonel, you shall hear," answered the 
 Mayor, waving his hand with dignity ; for he was one of those 
 persons who will not be hurried out of their own pace. " So Mrs. 
 Mayor would have persuaded me, in her love and affection, poor 
 wretch, that to rise at such an hour out of my own warm bed, was 
 like to bring on my old complaint the lumbago, and that I should 
 send the people to Alderman Button. — Alderman Devil, Mrs. 
 Mayor, said I ; — I beg your reverence's pardon for using such a 
 phrase — Do you think I am going to lie a-bed when the town is on 
 fire, and the cavaliers up, and the devil to pay ? — I beg pardon, 
 again, parson. — But here we are before the gate of the Palace ; 
 will it not please you to enter ? " 
 
 " I would first hear the end of your story," said the Colonel ; 
 " that is. Master Mayor, if it happens to have an end." 
 
 " Every thing hath an end," said the Mayor, " and that which 
 we call a pudding hath two. — Your worship will forgive me for 
 being facetious. Where was I ? — O, I jumped out of bed, and put 
 on my red plush breeches, with the blue nether stocks, for I always 
 make a point of being dressed suitably to my dignity, night and 
 day, summer or winter. Colonel Everard ; and I took the con- 
 stable along with me, in case the alarm should be raised by night- 
 walkers or thieves, and called up worthy Master Holdenough out of 
 his bed, in case it should turn out to be the devil. And so I thought 
 I was provided for the worst — and so away we came ; and, by and 
 by, the soldiers who came to the town with Master Tomkins, who 
 had been called to arms, came marching down to Woodstock as 
 fast as their feet would carry them ; so I gave our people the sign 
 to let them pass us, and outmarch us, as it were, and this for a 
 twofold reason." 
 
 " I will be satisfied," interrupted the Colonel, " with one good 
 reason. You desired the red-coats should have the first of the 
 fray?" 
 
 " True, sir, very true ; — and also that they should have the last 
 of it, in respect that fighting is their especial business. How- 
 ever, we came on at a slow pace, as men who are determined to do 
 their duty without fear or favour, when suddenly we saw something 
 white haste away up the avenue towards the town, when six of our 
 constables and assistants fled at once, as conceiving it to be an 
 apparition called the White Woman of Woodstock." 
 
 " Look you there. Colonel," said Master Holdenough, " I told 
 you there were demons of more kinds than one, which haunt the 
 ancient scenes of royal debauchery and cruelty." 
 
138 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " I hope you stood your own ground, Master Mayor ? " said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " I — ^yes — most assuredly — that is, I did not, strictly speaking, 
 keep my ground ; but the town-clerk and I retreated — retreated, 
 Colonel, and without confusion or dishonour, and took post behind 
 worthy Master Holdenough, who, with the spirit of a lion, threw 
 himself in the way of the supposed spectre, and attacked it with 
 such a siserary of Latin as might have scared the devil himself, 
 and thereby plainly discovered that it was no devil at all, nor white 
 woman, neither woman of any colour, but worshipful Master 
 Bletson, a member of the House of Commons, and one of the 
 Commissioners sent hither upon this unhappy sequestration of the 
 Wood, Chase, and Lodge of Woodstock." 
 
 " And this was all you saw of the demon ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Truly, yes," answered the Mayor ; " and I had no wish to see 
 ^more. However, we conveyed Master Bletson, as in duty bound, 
 back to the Lodge, and he was ever maundering by the way how 
 that he met a party of scarlet devils incarnate, marching down to 
 the Lodge'; but, to my poor thinking, it must have been the Inde- 
 pendent dragoons who had just passed us." 
 
 " And more incarnate devils I would never wish .to see," said 
 Wildrake, who could remain silent no longer. His voice, so sud- 
 denly heard, showed how much the Mayor's nerves were still 
 alarmed, for he started and jumped aside with an alacrity of which 
 no one would at first sight suppose a man of his portly dignity to 
 have been capable. Everard imposed silence on his intrusive 
 attendant ; and, desirous to hear the conclusion of this strange 
 story, requested the Mayor to tell him how the matter ended, and 
 whether they stopped the supposed spectre. 
 
 " Truly, worthy sir," said thk Mayor, " Master Holdenough was 
 quite venturous upon confronting, as it were, the devil, and com- 
 pelling him to appear under the real form of Master Joshua Blet- 
 son, member of Parliament for the borough of Littlefaith." 
 
 " In sooth. Master Mayor," said the divine, " I were strangely 
 ignorant of my own commission and its immunities, if I were to 
 value opposing myself to Satan, or any Independent in his likeness, 
 all of whom, in the name of Him I serve, I do defy, spit at, and 
 trample under my feet ; and because Master Mayor is something 
 tedious, I will briefly inform your honour that we saw little of the 
 Enemy that night, save what Master Bletson said in the first 
 feeling of his terrors, and save what we might collect from the 
 disordered appearance of the Honourable Colonel Desborough and 
 Major-General Harrison." 
 
 " And what plight were they in, I pray you .' " demanded the 
 Colonel. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 139 
 
 " Why, wortliy sir, every one might see with half an eye that 
 they had been engaged in a fight wherein they had not been 
 honoured with perfect victory ; seeing that General Harrison was 
 stalking up and down the parlour, with his drawn sword in his 
 hand, talking to himself, his doublet unbuttoned, his points un- 
 trussed, his garters loose, and like to throw him down as he now 
 and then trode on them, and gaping and grinning like a mad 
 player. And yonder sat Desborough with a dry pottle of sack 
 before him, which he had just emptied, and which, though the 
 element in which he trusted, had not restored him sense enough to 
 speak, or courage enough to look over his shoulder. He had a 
 Bible in his hand, forsooth, as if it would of itself make battle 
 against the Evil One ; but I peered over his shoulder, and alas ! 
 the good gentleman held the bottom of the page uppermost. It 
 was as if one of your musketeers, noble and valiant sir, were to 
 present the but of his piece at the enemy instead of the muzzle — 
 ha, ha, ha ! it was a sight to judge of schismatics by ; both in 
 point of head, and in point of heart, in point of skill, and in point 
 of courage. — Oh ! Colonel, then was the time to see the true 
 character of an authorized pastor of souls over those unhappy 
 men, who leap into the fold without due and legal authority, and 
 will, forsooth, preach, teach, and exhort, and blasphemously term 
 the doctrine of the church saltless porridge and dry chips ! " 
 
 " I have no doubt you were ready to meet the danger, reverend 
 sir ; but I would fain know of what nature it was, and from whence 
 it was to be apprehended ? " 
 
 "Was it for me to make such enquiry?" said the clergyman, 
 triumphantly. " Is it for a brave soldier to number his enemies, or 
 enquire from what quarter they are to comei' — No, sir, I was there 
 with match lighted, bullet in my mouth, and my harquebuss 
 shouldered, to encounter as many devils as hell could pour in, were 
 they countless as motes in the sunbeam, and although they came 
 from all points of the compass. The Papists talk of the temptation 
 of St. Anthony — pshaw ! let them double all the myriads which 
 the brain of a crazy Dutch painter hath invented, and you will find 
 a poor Presbyterian divine — I will answer, for one at least, — who, 
 not in his own strength, but his Master's, will receive the assault 
 in such sort, that far from returning against him as against yonder 
 poor hound, day after day, and night after night, he will at once 
 pack them off as with a vengeance to the uttermost parts of 
 Assyria ! " 
 
 " Still," said the Colonel, " I pray to know whether you saw any 
 thing upon which to exercise your pious learning ? " 
 
 " Saw ? " answered the divine ; " no, truly, I saw nothing, nor did 
 1 look for any thing. Thieves will not attack well-armed travellers, 
 
140 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 nor will devils or evil spirits come against one who bears in his 
 bosom the word of truth, in the very language in which it was first 
 dictated. No, sir, they shun a divine who can understand the , 
 holy text, as a crow is said to keep wide of a gun loaded with 
 hailshot." 
 
 They had walked a little way back upon their road, to give time 
 for this conversation ; and the Colonel, perceiving it was about to 
 lead to no satisfactory explanation of the real cause of alarm on 
 the preceding night, turned round, and observing it was time they 
 should go to the Lodge, began to move in that direction with his 
 three companions. 
 
 It had now become dark, and the towers of Woodstock arose 
 high above the umbrageous shroud which the forest spread around 
 the ancient and venerable mansion. From one of the highest 
 turrets, which could still be distinguished as it rose against the 
 clear blue sky, there gleamed a light like that of a candle within 
 the building. The Mayor stopt short, and catching fast hold of 
 the divine, and then of Colonel Everard, exclaimed, in a trembling 
 and hasty, but suppressed tone, 
 
 " Do you see yonder light?" - 
 
 "Ay, marry do I," said Colonel Everard; "and what does that 
 matter ? — a light in a garret-room of such an old mansion as Wood- 
 stock is no subject for wonder, I trow." 
 
 " But a light from Rosamond's Tower is surely so," said the Mayor. 
 
 "True," said the Colonel, something surprised, when, after a 
 careful examination, he satisfied himself that the worthy magis- 
 trate's conjecture was right. "That is indeed Rosamond's Tower; 
 and as the drawbridge by which it was accessible has been destroyed 
 for centuries, it is hard to say what chance could have lighted a 
 lamp in such an inaccessible place." 
 
 " That light burns with no earthly fuel," said the Mayor ; 
 " neither from whale nor olive oil, nor bees-wax, nor mutton-suet 
 either. I dealt in these commodities, Colonel, before I went into 
 my present line ; and I can assure you I could distinguish the 
 sort of light they give, one from another, at a greater distance 
 than yonder turret — Look you, that is no earthly flame. — See you 
 not something blue and reddish upon the edges? — that bodes 
 full well where it comes from. — Colonel, in my opinion we had 
 better go back to sup at the town, and leave the devil and the 
 red-coats to settle their matters together for to-night ; and then 
 when we come back the next morning, we will have a pull with 
 the party that chances to keep a-field." 
 
 " You will do as you please, Master Mayor," said Everard, " but 
 my duty requires me that I should see the Commissioners to- 
 night." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 141 
 
 " And mine requires me to see the foul fiend," said Master 
 Holdenough, " if he dare make himself visible to me. I wonder 
 not that, knowing who is approaching, he betakes himself to the 
 very citadel, the inner and the last defences of this ancient and 
 haunted mansion. He is dainty, I warrant you, and must dwell 
 where is a relish of luxury and murder about the walls of his 
 chamber. In yonder turret sinned Rosamond, and in yonder turret 
 she suffered ; and there she sits, or, more likely, the Enemy in her 
 shape, as I have heard true men of Woodstock tell. — I wait on you, 
 good Colonel— Master Mayor will do as he pleases. The strong 
 man hath fortified himself in his dwelling-house, but, lo, there 
 Cometh another stronger than he." 
 
 " For me," said the Mayor, " who am as unlearned as I am 
 unwarlike, I will not engage either with the Powers of the Earth, or 
 the Prince of the Powers of the Air, and I would we were again at 
 Woodstock ; — and hark ye, good fellow," slapping Wildrake on the 
 shoulder, " I will bestow on thee a shilling wet and a shilling dry if 
 thou wilt go back with me." 
 
 " Gadzookers, Master Mayor," said Wildrake, neither flattered 
 by the magistrate's familiarity of address, nor captivated by his 
 munificence — " I wonder who the devil made you and me fellows? 
 and, besides, do you think I would go back to Woodstock with 
 your worshipful cod's-head, when, by good management, I may get 
 a peep of fair Rosamond, and see whether she was that choice and 
 incomparable piece of ware, whichsthe world has been told of by 
 rhymers and ballad-makers ? " 
 
 " Speak less lightly and wantonly, friend," said the divine ; " we 
 are to resist the devil that he may flee from us, and not to tamper 
 with him, or enter into his counsels, or traffic with the merchandise 
 of his great Vanity Fair." 
 
 " Mind what the good man says, Wildrake," said the Colonel ; 
 " and take heed another time how thou dost suffer' thy wit to out- 
 run discretion." 
 
 " I am beholden to the reverend gentleman for his advice," 
 answered Wildrake, upon whose tongue it was difficult to impose 
 any curb whatever, even when his own safety rendered it most 
 desirable. " But, gadzookers, let him have had what experience he 
 will in fighting with the devil, he never saw one so black as I had 
 a tussle with — not a hundred years ago." 
 
 " How, friend," said the clergyman, who understood every thing 
 literally when apparitions were mentioned, " have you had so late a 
 visitation of Satan ? Believe me, then, that I wonder why thou 
 darest to entertain his name so often and so lightly, as I see thou 
 dost use it in thy ordinary discourse. ' But when and where didst 
 thou see the Evil One ?" 
 
142 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Everard hastily interposed, lest by something yet more strongly 
 alluding to Cromwell, his imprudent squire should, in mere wanton- 
 ness, betray his interview with the General. " The young man 
 raves," he said, " of a dream which he had the other night, when 
 he and I slept together in Victor Lee's chamber, belonging to the 
 ranger's apartments at the Lodge." 
 
 "Thanks for help at a pinch, good patron," said Wildrake, 
 whispering into Everard's ear, who in vain endeavoured to shake 
 him off, — " a fib never failed a fanatic." 
 
 " You, also, spoke something too lightly of these matters, con- 
 sidering the work which we have in hand, worthy Colonel," said the 
 Presbyterian divine. " Believe me, the young man, thy servant, 
 was more likely to see visions than to dream merely idle dreams in 
 that apartment ; for I have always heard, that, next to Rosamond's 
 Tower, in which, as I said, she played the wanton, and was after- 
 wards poisoned by Queen Eleanor, Victor Lee's chamber was the 
 place in the Lodge of Woodstock more peculiarly the haunt of evil 
 spirits. — I pray you, young man, tell me this dream or vision of 
 yours." 
 
 "With all my heart, sir," said Wildrake— then addressing his 
 patron, who began to interfere, he said, " Tush, sir, you have had 
 the discourse for an hour, and why should not I hold forth in my 
 turn ? By this darkness, if you keep me silent any longer I will 
 turn Independent preacher, and stand up in your despite for the 
 freedom of private judgment. — And so, reverend sir, I was dreaming 
 of a carnal divertisement called a bull-baiting ; and methought they 
 were venturing dogs at head, as -merrily as e'er I saw them at 
 Tutbury Bull-running ; and methought I heard some one say, there 
 was the devil come to have a sight of the bull-ring. Well, I 
 thought that, gadswoons, I would have a peep at his Infernal 
 Majesty. So I looked, and there was a butcher in greasy woollen, 
 with his steel by his side ; but he was none of the devil. And 
 there was a drunken cavalier, with his mouth full of oaths, and his 
 stomach full of emptiness, and a gold-laced waistcoat in a very 
 dilapidated condition, and a ragged hat, with apiece of a feather in 
 it ; and he was none of the devil neither. And there was a miller, 
 his hands dusty with meal, and every atom of it stolen : and there 
 was a vintner, his green apron stained with wine, and every drop 
 of it sophisticated ; but neither was the old gentleman I looked for 
 to be detected among these artisans of iniquity. At length, sir, I 
 saw a grave person with cropped hair, a pair of longish and pro- 
 jecting ears, a band as broad as a slobbering bib under his chin, a 
 brown coat surmounted by a Geneva cloak, and I had old Nicholas 
 at once in his genuine paraphernalia, by ! " 
 
 " Shame, Shame !" said Colonel Everard. "What ! behave thus 
 to an old gentleman and a divine ! " — 
 
WOODSTOCK. 143 
 
 _ " Nay, let him proceed," said the minister, with perfect equa- 
 nimity, " if thy friend, or secretary, is gibing, I must have less 
 patience than becomes my profession, if I could not bear an idle 
 jest, and forgive him who makes it. Or if, on the other hand, the 
 Enemy has really presented himself to the young man in such a 
 guise as he intimates, wherefore should we be surprised that he, 
 who can take upon him the form of an angel of light, should be 
 able to assume that of a frail and peccable mortal, whose spiritual 
 calling and profession ought, indeed, to induce him to make his 
 life an example to others, but whose conduct, nevertheless, such is 
 the imperfection of our unassisted nature,' sometimes rather pre- 
 sents us with a warning of what we should shun ? " 
 
 " Now, by the mass, honest dominie — I mean reverend sir — I 
 crave you a thousand pardons," said Wildrake, penetrated by the 
 quietness and patience of the presbyter's rebuke. " By St. George, 
 if quiet patience will do it, thou art fit to play a game at foils with 
 the devil himself, and I would be contented to hold stakes." 
 
 As he concluded an apology, which was certainly not uncalled 
 for, and seemed to be received in perfectly good part, they ap- 
 proached so close to the exterior door of the Lodge, that they were 
 challenged with the emphatic Stand, by a sentinel who mounted 
 guard there. Colonel Everard replied, A friend j and the sentinel 
 repeating his command, " Stand, friend," proceeded to call the 
 corporal of the guard. The corporal came forth, and at the same 
 time turned out his guard. Colonel Everard gave his name and 
 designation, as well as those of his companions, on which the 
 corporal said, " he doubted not there would be orders for his instant 
 admission, but, in the first place, Master Tomkins must be con- 
 sulted, that he might learn their honours' mind." 
 
 " How, sir ! " said the Colonel, " do you, knowing who I am, 
 presume to keep me on the outside of your post ? " 
 
 " Not if your honour pleases to enter," said the corporal, "and 
 undertakes to be my warranty ; but such are the orders of my 
 post." 
 
 " Nay, then, do your duty," said the Colonel ; " but are the 
 cavaliers up, or what is the matter, that you keep so close and strict 
 a watch?" 
 
 The fellow gave no distinct answer, but muttered between bis 
 mustaches something about the Enemy, and the roaring Lion who 
 goeth about seeking whom he may devour. Presently afterwards 
 Tomkins appeared, followed by two servants, bearing lights in 
 great standing brass candlesticks. They marched before Colonel 
 Everard and his party, keeping as close to each other as two cloves 
 of the same orange, and starting from time to time ; and shoulder- 
 ing as they passed through sundry intricate passages, they led up a 
 
144 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 large and ample wooden staircase, the banisters, rail, and lining of 
 which were executed in black oak, and finally into a long saloon, 
 or parlour, where there was a prodigious fire, and about twelve 
 candles of the largest size distributed in sconces against the wall. 
 There were seated the Commissioners, who now held in their power 
 the ancient mansion and royal domain of Woodstock. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The bloody bear, an independent beast, 
 Unlick'd to forms, in groans his hate express'd— 
 
 Next him the buffoon ape, as atheists use, 
 Mimick'd all sects, and had his own to choose. 
 
 Hind and Panther. 
 
 The strong light in the parlour which we have described, served 
 to enable Everard easily to recognise his acquaintances, Des- 
 borough, Harrison, and Bletson, who had assembled round an oak 
 table of large dimensions, placed near the blazing chimney, on 
 which were arranged wine, and ale, and materials for smoking, 
 then the general indulgence of the. time. There was a species of 
 movable cupboard set betwixt the table and the door, calculated 
 originally for a display of plate upon grand occasions, but at pre- 
 sent only used as a screen ; which purpose it served so effectually, 
 that, ere he" had coasted around it, Everard heard the following 
 fragment of what Desborough was saying, in his strong coarse 
 voice : — " Sent him to share with us, I'se warrant ye — It was always 
 his Excellency my brother-in-law's way — if he made a treat for five 
 friends, he would invite more than the table could hold — I have 
 known him ask three men to eat two eggs." 
 
 " Hush, hush," said Bletson ; and the servants making their 
 appearance from behind the tall cupboard, announced Colonel 
 Everard. It may not be uninteresting to the reader to have a 
 description of the party into which he now entered. 
 
 Desborough was a stout, bull-necked man, of middle-size, with 
 heavy vulgar features, grizzled bushy eyebrows, and wall-eyes. The 
 flourish of his powerful relative's fortunes had burst forth in the 
 finery of his dress, which was much more ornamented than was 
 usual among the roundheads. There was embroidery on his cloak, 
 and lace upon his band ; his hat displayed a feather with a golden 
 clasp, and all his habiliments were those of a cavalier, or follower 
 of the court, rather than the plain dress of a parhamentarian officer. 
 But, Heaven knows, there was little of courtlike grace or dignity in 
 
WOODSTOCK. 
 
 145 
 
 the person or demeanour of the individual, who became his fine suit 
 as the hog on the sign-post does his gilded armour. It was not that 
 he was positively deformed, or misshaped, for, taken in detail, the 
 figure was well enough. But his limbs seemed to act upon different 
 and contradictory principles. They were not, as the play says, in 
 a concatenation accordingly ;— the right hand moved as if it were 
 upon bad terms with the left, and the legs showed an inclination to 
 foot it in different and opposite directions. In short, to use an 
 extravagant comparison, the members of Colonel Desborough 
 seemed rather to resemble the disputatious representatives of a 
 federative congress, than the well-ordered union of the orders of 
 the state, in a firm and well-compacted monarchy, where each holds 
 his own place, and all obey the dictates of a common head. 
 
 General Harrison, the second of the Commissioners, was a tall, 
 thin, middle-aged man, who had risen into his high situation in the 
 army, and his intimacy with Cromwell, by his dauntless courage in 
 the field, and the popularity he had acquired by his exalted enthu- 
 siasm amongst the military saints, sectaries, and Independents, who 
 composed the strength of the existing army. Harrison was of mean 
 extraction, and bred up to his father's employment of a butcher. 
 Nevertheless, his appearance, though coarse, was not vulgar, like 
 that of Desborough, who had so much the advantage of him in birth 
 and education. He had a masculine height and strength of figure, 
 was well made, and in his manner announced a rough military- 
 character, which might be feared, but could not easily become the 
 object of contempt or ridicule. His aquiline nose and dark black 
 eyes set off to-some advantage a countenance otherwise irregular, 
 and the wild enthusiasm that sometimes sparkled in them as he 
 dilated on his opinions to others, and often seemed to slumber under 
 his long dark eyelashes as he mused upon them himself, gave some- 
 thing strikingly wild, and even noble, to his aspect. He was one 
 of the chief leaders of those who were called Fifth-monarchy men, 
 who, going even beyond the general fanaticism of the age, pre- 
 sumptuously interpreted the Book of the Revelations after their 
 own fancies, considered that the second Advent of the Messiah, and 
 the Millennium, or reign of the Saints upon earth, was close at hand, 
 and that they themselves, illuminated, as they believed, with the 
 power of foreseeing these' approaching events, were the chosen 
 instruments for the establishment of the New Reign, or Fifth 
 Monarchy, as it was called, and were fated also to win its honours, 
 whether celestial or terrestrial. 
 
 When this spirit of enthusiasm, which operated like a partial 
 insanity, was not immediately affecting Harrison's mind, he was a 
 shrewd worldly man, and a good soldier ; one who missed no oppor- 
 tunity of mending his fortune, and who, in expecting the exaltation 
 
14.6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 of the Fifth Monarchy, was, in the meanwhile, a ready instrument 
 for the estabhshment of the Lord General's supremacy.^ Whether 
 it was owing to his early occupation, and habits of indifference^ to 
 pain or bloodshed acquired in the shambles, to natural disposition 
 and want of feeling, or, finally, to the awakened character of his 
 enthusiasm, which made him look upon those who opposed him, as 
 opposing the Divine will, and therefore meriting no favour or mercy, 
 is not easy to say ; but all agreed, that after a victory, or the suc- 
 cessful storm of a town, Harrison was one of the most cruel and 
 pitiless men in Cromwell's army ; always urging some misapplied 
 text to authorize the continued execution of the fugitives, and some- 
 times even putting to death those who had surrendered themselves 
 prisoners. It was said, that at times the recollection of some of 
 those cruelties troubled his conscience, and disturbed the dreams 
 of beatification in which his imagination indulged. 
 
 When Everard entered the apartment, this true representative of 
 the fanatical soldiers of the day, who filled those ranks and regiments 
 which Cromwell had politically kept on foot, while he procured the 
 reduction of those in which the Presbyterian interest predominated, 
 was seated a little apart from the others, his legs crossed, and 
 stretched out at length towards the fire, his head resting on his 
 elbow, and turned upwards, as if studying, with the most profound 
 gravity, the half-seen carving of the Gothic roof. 
 
 Bletson remains to be mentioned, who, in person and figure, was 
 diametrically different from the other two. There was neither fop- 
 pery nor slovenliness in his exterior, nor had he any marks of 
 military service or rank about his person. A small walking rapier 
 seemed merely worn as a badge of his rank as a gentleman, without 
 his hand having the least purpose of becoming acquainted with the 
 hilt, or his eye with the blade. His countenance was thin and acute, 
 marked with lines which thought rather than age had traced upon 
 it ; and a habitual sneer on his countenance, even when he least 
 wished to express contempt on his features, seemed to assure the 
 individual addressed, that in Bletson he conversed with a person of 
 intellect far superior to his own. This was a triumph of intellect 
 only, however ; for on all occasions of difference respecting specula- 
 tive opinions, and indeed on all controversies whatsoever, Bletson 
 avoided the ultimate ratio of blows and knocks. 
 
 Yet this peaceful gentleman had found himself obliged to serve 
 personally in the Parliamentary army at the commencement of the 
 Civil War, till happening unluckily to come in contact with the 
 fiery Prince Rupert, his retreat was judged so precipitate, that it 
 required all the shelter his friends could afford, to keep him free of 
 an impeachment or a court-martial. But as Bletson spoke well, 
 and with great effect in the House of Commons, which was his 
 
WOODSTOCK. 147 
 
 natural sphere, and was on that account high in the estimation of 
 his party, his behaviour at Edgehill was passed over, and he con- 
 tinued to take an active share in all the political events of that 
 bustling period, though he faced not again the actual front of war. 
 
 Bletson's theoretical politics had long inclined him to espouse the 
 opinions of Harrington and others, who adopted the visionary idea 
 of establishing a pure democratical republic in so extensive a country 
 as Britain. This was a rash theory, where there is such an infinite 
 difference betwixt ranks, habits, education, and morals — where there 
 is such an immense disproportion betwixt the wealth of individuals 
 — and where a large portion of the inhabitants consists of the inferior 
 classes of the large towns and manufacturing districts — men unfitted 
 to bear that share in the direction of a state, which must be exercised 
 by the members of a republic in the proper sense of the word. 
 Accordingly, as soon as the experiment was made, it became obvious 
 that no such form of government could be adopted with the smallest 
 chance of stability ; and the question came only to be, whether the 
 remnant, or, as it was vulgarly called, the Rump of the Long Par- 
 liament, now reduced by the seclusion of so many of the members 
 to a few scores of persons, should continue, in spite of their unpopu- 
 larity, to rule the affairs of Britain ? Whether they should cast all 
 loose by dissolving themselves, and issuing wrico to convoke a new 
 Parliament, the composition of which no one could answer for, any 
 more than for the measures they might take when assembled ? Or, 
 lastly. Whether Cromwell, as actually happened, was not to throw 
 the sword into the balance, and boldly possess himself of that power 
 which the remnant of the Parliament were unable to hold, and yet 
 afraid to resign ? 
 
 Such being the state of parties, the Council of State, in distribut- 
 ing the good things in their gift, endeavoured to soothe and gratify 
 the army, as a beggar flings crusts to a growling mastiff. In this 
 view Desborough had been created a Commissioner in the Wood- 
 stock matter to gratify Cromwell, Harrison to soothe the fierce 
 Fifth-monarchy men, and Bletson as a sincere republican, and one 
 of their own leaven. 
 
 But if they supposed Bletson had the least intention of becoming 
 a martyr to his republicanism, or submitting to any serious loss on 
 account of it, they much mistook the man. He entertained their 
 principles sincerely,'and not the less that they were found imprac- 
 ticable ; for the miscarriage of his experiment no more converts the 
 political speculator^ than the explosion of a retort undeceives an 
 alchymist. But Bletson was quite prepared to submit to Cromwell, 
 or any one else who might be possessed of the actual authority. He 
 was a ready subject in practice to the powers existing, and made 
 littk difference betwixt various kinds of government, holding in 
 
 L 2 
 
i-t3 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 theory all to be nearly equal in imperfection, so soon as they diverged 
 from the model of Harrington's Oceana. Cromwell had already 
 been tampering with him, like wax between his finger and thumb, 
 and which he was ready shortly to seal with, smiling at the same 
 time to himself when he beheld the Council of State giving rewards 
 to Bletson as their faithful adherent, while he himself was secure of 
 his allegiance, how soon soever the expected change of government 
 should take place. 
 
 But Bletson was still more attached to his metaphysical than his 
 political creed, and carried his doctrines of the perfectibility of man- 
 kind as far as he did those respecting the conceivable perfection of 
 a model of government ; and as in the one case he declared against 
 all power which did not emanate from the people themselves, so, 
 in his moral speculations, he was unwilling to refer any of the 
 phenomena of nature to a final cause. When pushed, indeed, very 
 hard, Bletson was compelled to mutter some inarticulate and unin- 
 telligible doctrines concerning -sea. Animus Mundi, or Creative Power 
 in the works of Nature, by which she originally called into existence, 
 and still continues to preserve, her works. To this power, he said 
 some of the purest metaphysicians rendered a certain degree of 
 homage ; nor was he himself inclined absolutely to censure those, 
 who, by the institution of holidays, choral dances, songs, and harm- 
 less feasts and libations, might be disposed to celebrate the great 
 goddess Nature ; at least dancing, singing, feasting, and sporting, 
 being comfortable things to both young and old, they might as well 
 sport, dance, and feast, in honour of such appointed holidays, as 
 under any other pretext. But then this moderate show of religion 
 was to be practised under such exceptions as are admitted by the 
 Highgate oath ; and no one was to be compelled to dance, drink, 
 sing, or feast, whose taste did not happen to incline them to such 
 divertisements ; nor was any one to be obliged to worship the 
 creative power, whether under the name of the Animus Mtmdi, or 
 any other whatsoever. The interference of the Deity in the affairs 
 of mankind he entirely disowned, having proved to his own satis- 
 faction that the idea originated entirely in priestcraft. In short, 
 with the shadowy metaphysical exception aforesaid, Mr. Joshua 
 Bletson of Dariington, member for Littlecreed, came as near the 
 predicament of an atheist, as it is perhaps possible for a man to do. 
 But we say this with the necessary salvo ; for we have known many 
 like Bletson, whose curtains have been shrewdly shaken by super- 
 stition, though their fears were unsanctioned by any religious faith. 
 The devils, we are assured, believe and tremble ; but on earth there 
 are many, who, in worse plight than even the natural children of 
 perdition, tremble without believing, and fear even while they 
 blaspheme. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 149 
 
 It follows, of course, that nothing could be treated with more 
 scorn by Mr. Bletson, than the debates about Prelacy and Presby- 
 tery, about Presbytery and Independency, about Quakers and 
 Anabaptists, Muggletonians and Brownists, and all the various 
 sects with which the Civil War had commenced, and by which its 
 dissensions were still continued. " It was," he said, " as if beasts 
 of burden should quarrel amongst themselves about the fashion of 
 their halters and packsaddles, instead of embracing a favourable 
 opportunity of throwing them aside." Other witty and pithy 
 remarks he used to make when time and place suited ; for 
 instance, at the club called the Rota, frequented by St. John, and 
 established by Harrington, for the free discussion of political 
 and religious subjects. 
 
 But when Bletson was out of this academy, or stronghold of 
 philosophy, he was very cautious how he carried his contempt of 
 the general prejudice in favour of religion and Christianity further 
 than an implied objection or a sneer. If he had an opportunity of 
 talking in private with an ingenuous and intelligent youth, he some- 
 times attempted to make a proselyte, and showed much address in 
 bribing the vanity of inexperience, by suggesting that a mind like 
 his ought to spurn the prejudices impressed upon it in childhood ; 
 and when assuming the latus davits of reason, assuring him that 
 such as he, laying aside the bulla of juvenile incapacity, as Bletson 
 called it, should proceed to examine and decide for himself. It 
 frequently happened, that the youth was induced to adopt the 
 doctrines in whole, or in part, of the sage who had seen his natural 
 genius, and who had urged him to exert it in examining, detecting, 
 and declaring for himself ; and thus flattery gave proselytes to in- 
 fidelity, which could not have been gained by all the powerful 
 eloquence, or artful sophistry, of the infidel. 
 
 These attempts to extend the influence of what was called free- 
 thinking and philosophy, were carried on, as we have hinted, with 
 a caution dictated by the timidity of the philosopher's disposition. 
 He was conscious his doctrines were suspected, and his proceedings 
 watched, by the two principal sects of Prelatists and Presbyterians, 
 who, however inimical to each other, were still more hostile to one 
 who was an opponent, not only to a church establishment of any 
 kind, but to every denomination of Christianity. He found it more 
 easy to shroud himself among the Independents, whose demands 
 were for a general liberty of conscience, or an unlimited toleration, 
 and whose faith, differing in all respects and particulars, was by 
 some pushed into such wild errors, as to get totally beyond the 
 bounds of every species of Christianity, and approach very near to 
 infidelity itself, as extremes of each kind are said to approach each 
 other. Bletson mixed a good deal among those sectaries j and 
 
150 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 such was his confidence in his own logic and address, that he is 
 supposed to have entertained hopes of bringing to his opinions in 
 time the enthusiastic Vane, as well as the no less enthusiastic 
 Harrison, provided he could but get them to resign their visions of 
 a Fifth Monarchy, and induce them to be contented with a reign of 
 Philosophers in England for the natural period of their lives, 
 instead of the reign of the Saints during the Millennium. 
 
 Such was the singular group into which Everard was now intro- 
 duced ; showing, in their various opinions, upon how many 
 devious coasts human nature may make shipwreck, when she has 
 once let go her hold on the anchor which religion has given her to 
 lean upon ; the acute self-conceit and worldly learning of Bletson — 
 the rash and ignorant conclusions of the fierce and under-bred 
 Harrison, leading them into the opposite extremes of enthusiasm 
 and infidelity, while Desborough, constitutionally stupid, thought 
 nothing about religion at all ; and while the others were active in 
 making sail on different but equally erroneous courses, he might be 
 said to perish like a vessel, which springs a leak and founders in 
 the roadstead. It was wonderful to behold what a strange variety 
 of mistakes and errors, on the part of the King and his Ministers, 
 on the part of the Parliament and their leaders, on the part of the 
 allied kingdoms of Scotland and England towards each other, had 
 combined to rear up men of such dangerous opinions and interested 
 characters among the arbiters of the destiny of Britain. 
 
 Those who argue for party's sake, will see all the faults on the 
 one side, without deigning to look at those on the other ; those 
 who study history for instruction, will perceive that nothing but the 
 want of concession on either side, and the deadly height to which 
 the animosity of the King's and Parliament's parties had arisen, 
 could have so totally overthrown the well-poised balance of the 
 English constitution. But we hasten to quit political reflections, 
 the rather that ours, we believe, will please neither Whig nor 
 Tory. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Three form a College — an you give us four, 
 Let him bring his share with him. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Mr. Bletson arose, and paid his respects to Colonel Everard, 
 with the ease and courtesy of a gentleman of the time ; though on 
 every account grieved at his intrusion, as a religious man who held 
 his free-thinking principles in detestation, and would efiectually 
 
WOODSTOCK. 151 
 
 prevent his conversion of Harrison, and even of Desborough, if any 
 thing could be moulded out of such a clod, to the worship of the 
 Animus Mundi, Moreover, Bletson knew Everard to be a man of 
 steady probity, and by no means disposed to close with a scheme 
 on which he had successfully sounded the other two, and which was 
 calculated to assure the Commissioners of some little private in- 
 demnification for the trouble they were to give themselves in the 
 public business. The philosopher was yet less pleased, when he saw 
 the magistrate and the pastor who had met him in his flight of the 
 preceding evening, when he had been seen, panna non bene relicta, 
 with cloak and doublet left behind him. 
 
 The presence of Colonel Everard was as unpleasant to Des- 
 borough as to Bletson ; but the former having no philosophy in 
 him, nor an idea that it was possible for any man to resist helping 
 himself out. of untold money, was chiefly embarrassed by the 
 thought, that the plunder which they might be able to achieve out 
 of their trust, might, by this unwelcome addition to their number, 
 be divided into four parts instead of three ; and this reflection 
 added to the natural awkwardness with which he grumbled forth a 
 sort of welcome, addressed to Everard. 
 
 As for Harrison, he remained like one on higher thoughts intent ; 
 his posture unmoved, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as before, and in 
 no way indicating the least consciousness that the company had 
 been more than doubled around him. 
 
 Meantime, Everard took his place at the table, as a man who 
 assumed his own right, and pointed to his companions to sit down 
 nearer the foot of the board. Wildrake so far misundersood his 
 signals, as to sit down above the Mayor ; but rallying his recollec- 
 tion at a look from his patron, he rose and took his place lower, 
 whistling, however, as he went, a sound at which the company 
 stared, as at a freedom highly unbecoming. To complete his in- 
 decorum, he seized upon a pipe, and filling it from a large tobacco- 
 box, was soon immersed in a cloud of his own raising, from which a 
 hand shortly after emerged, seized on the black-jack of ale, withdrew 
 it within the vapoury sanctuary, and, after a potential draught, 
 replaced it upon the table, its owner beginning to renew the cloud 
 which his intermitted exercise of the tube had almost allowed to 
 subside. 
 
 Nobody made any observation on his conduct, out of respect, 
 probably, to Colonel Everard, who bit his lip, but continued silent ; 
 aware that censure might extract some escapade more unequivocally 
 characteristic of a cavaher, from his refractory companion. As 
 silence seemed awkward, and the others made no advances 
 to break it, beyond the ordinary salutation. Colonel Everard at 
 length said, " I presume, gentlemen, that you are somewhat 
 
IS3 
 
 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 surprised at my arrival here, and thus intruding myself into your 
 meeting ? " 
 
 "Why the dickens should we be surprised, Colonel?" said 
 Desborough ; "we know his Excellency, my brother-in-law Noll's 
 — I mean my Lord Cromwell's way, of over-quartering his men in 
 the towns he marches through. Thou hast obtained a share in our 
 commission ? " 
 
 ' And in that," said Bletson, smiling and bowing, " the Lord- 
 General has given us the most acceptable colleague that could 
 have been added to our number. No doubt your authority for 
 joining with us must be under warrant of the Council of State ? " 
 
 "Of that, gentlemen," said the Colonel, " I will presently advise 
 you." — He took out his warrant accordingly, and was about to com- - 
 municate the contents ; but observing that there were three or four 
 half-empty flasks upon the table, that Desborough looked more 
 stupid than usual, and that the philosopher's eyes were reeling in 
 his head, notwithstanding the temperance of Bletson's usual habits, 
 he concluded that they had been fortifying themselves against the 
 horrors of the haunted mansion, by laying in a store of what is 
 called Dutch courage, and therefore prudently resolved to postpone 
 his more important business with them till the cooler hour of 
 morning. He, therefore, instead of presenting the General's warrant 
 superseding their commission, contented himself with replying, — 
 " My business has, of course, some reference to your proceedings 
 here. But here is — excuse my curiosity — a reverend gentleman," 
 pointing to Holdenough, " who has told me that you are so strangely 
 embarrassed here, as to require both the civil and spiritual authority 
 to enable you to keep possession of Woodstock." 
 
 '• Before we go into that matter," said Bletson, blushing up to the 
 eyes at the recollection of his own fears, so manifestly displayed, yet 
 so inconsistent with his principles, " I should like to know who this 
 Other stranger is, who has come with the worthy magistrate, and 
 the no less worthy Presbyterian ? " 
 
 " Meaning me ? " said Wildrake, laying his pipe aside ; " Gad- 
 zooks, the time hath been that I could have answered the question 
 with a better title ; but at present I am only his honour's poor 
 clerk, or secretary, whichever is the current phrase." 
 
 " 'Fore George, my lively blade, thou art a frank fellow of thy 
 tattle," said Desborough. " There is my secretary Tomkins, whom 
 men sillily enough call Fibbet, and the honourable Lieutenant- 
 General Harrison's secretary, Bibbet, who are now at supper below 
 stairs, that durst not for their ears speak a phrase above their breath 
 in the presence of theirtbetters, unless to answer a question." 
 
 "Yes, Colonel Everard," said the philosopher, with his quiet 
 smile, glad, apparently, to divert the conversation from the topic of 
 
WOODSTOCK. 153 
 
 last night's alarm, and recollections which humbled his self-love 
 and self-satisfaction, — " yes ; and when Master Fibbet and Master 
 Bibbet do speak, their affirmations are as much in a common 
 mould of mutual attestation, as their names would accord in the 
 verses of a poet. If Master Fibbet happens to tell a fiction, Master 
 Bibbet swears it as truth. If Master Bibbet chances to have gotten 
 drunk in the fear of the Lord, Master Fibbet swears he is sober. 
 I have called my own secretary Gibbet, though his name chances 
 to be only Gibeon, a worthy Israelite at your service, but as pure a 
 youth as ever picked a lamb-bone at Paschal. But I call him 
 Gibbet, merely to rnake up the holy trefoil with another rhyme. 
 This squire of thine. Colonel Everard, looks as if he might be 
 worthy to be coupled with the rest of the fraternity." 
 
 " Not I, truly," said the cavalier ; " I'll be coupled with no Jew 
 that was ever whelped, and no Jewess neither." 
 
 " Scorn not for that, young man," said the philosopher ; " the 
 Jews are, in point of religion, the elder brethren, you know." 
 
 " The Jews' older than the Christians ? " said Desborough ; " 'fore 
 George, they will have thee before the General Assembly, Bletson, 
 if thou venturest to say so." 
 
 Wildrake laughed without ceremony at the gross ignorance of 
 Desborough, and was joined by a sniggling response from behind 
 the cupboard, which, when enquired into, proved to be produced 
 by the serving-men. These worthies, timorous as their betters, 
 when they were supposed to have left the room, had only with- 
 drawn to their present place of concealment. 
 
 " How now, ye rogues," said Bletson, angrily ; " do you not 
 know your duty better ? " 
 
 " We beg your worthy honour's pardon,'' said one of the men, 
 " but we dared not go down stairs without a light." 
 
 " A light, ye cowardly poltroons ? " said the philosopher ; " what 
 — to show which of you looks palest when a rat squeaks ? — but 
 take a candlestick and begone, you cowardly villains ! the devils 
 you are so much afraid of must be but paltry kites, if they hawk at 
 such bats as you are." 
 
 The servants, without replying, took up one of the candlesticks, 
 and prepared to retreat. Trusty Tomkins at the head of the troop, 
 when suddenly, as they arrived at the door of the parlour, which 
 had been left half open, it was shut violently. The three terrified 
 domestics tumbled back into the middle of the room, as if a shot 
 had been discharged in their face, and all who were at the table 
 started to their feet. 
 
 Colonel Everard was incapable of a moment's fear, even if any 
 thing frightful had been seen ; but he remained stationary, to see • 
 what his companions would do, and to get at the bottom, if pos- 
 
IS4 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 sible, of the cause of their alarm upon an occasion so trifling. The 
 philosopher seemed to think that he was the person chiefly con- 
 cerned to show manhood on the occasion. 
 
 He walked to the door accordingly, murmuring at the cowardice 
 of the servants ; but at such a snail's pace, that it seemed he would 
 most willingly have been anticipated by any one whom his re- 
 proaches hdd roused to exertion. "Cowardly blockheads !"" he 
 said at last, seizing hold of the handle of the door, but without 
 turning it effectually round — " dare you not open a door ? " — (still 
 fumbhng with the lock)—" dare you not go down a staircase with- 
 out a hght ? Here, bring me the candle, you cowardly villains ! — 
 By Heaven, something sighs on the outside ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he 'let go the handle of the parlour door, and 
 stepped back a pace or two into the apartment, with cheeks as 
 pale as the band he wore. 
 
 " Deus adjutor mens!" said the Presbyterian clergyman, rising 
 from his seat. " Give place, sir," addressing Bletson ; " it would 
 seem I know more of this matter than thou, and I bless Heaven I 
 am armed for the conflict." 
 
 Bold as a grenadier about to mount a breach, yet with the same 
 belief in the existence of a great danger to be encountered, as well 
 as the same reliance in the goodness of his cause, the worthy man 
 stepped before the philosophical Bletson, and taking a hght from a 
 sconce in one hand, quietly opened the door with the other, and 
 standing in the threshold, said, " Here is nothing ! " 
 
 " And who expected to see any thing," said Bletson, " excepting 
 those terrified oafs, who take fright at every puff of wind that 
 whistles through the passages of this old dungeon?" 
 
 " Mark you, Master Tomkins," said one of the waiting-men in a 
 whisper to the steward, — " See how boldly the minister pressed 
 forward before all of them ! Ah ! Master Tomkins, our parson is 
 the real commissioned officer of the church — your lay-preachers 
 are no better than a parcel of club-men and volunteers." 
 
 " Follow me those who list," said Master Holdenough, " or go 
 before me those who choose, I will walk through the habitable 
 places of this house before I leave it, and satisfy myself whether 
 Satan hath really mingled himself among these dreary dens of 
 ancient wickedness, or whether, like the wicked of whom holy 
 David speaketh, we are afraid, and flee when no one pursueth." 
 
 Harrison, who had heard these words, sprung from his seat, and 
 drawing his sword, exclaimed, " Were there as many fiends in the 
 house, as there are hairs on my head, upon this cause I will charge 
 them up to their very trenches ! " 
 
 So saying, he brandished his weapon, and pressed to the head of 
 the column, where he moved side by side with the minister. The 
 
WOODSTOCK. ISS 
 
 Mayor of Woodstock next joined the body, thinking himself safer 
 perhaps in the company of his pastor ; and the whole train moved 
 forward in close order, accompanied by the servants bearing lights, 
 to search the Lodge for some cause of that panic with which they 
 seemed to be suddenly seized. 
 
 " Nay, take me with you, my friends,'' said Colonel Everard, 
 who had looked on in surprise, and was now about to follow 
 the party, when Bletson laid hold on his cloak, and begged him to 
 remain. 
 
 " You see, my good Colonel," he said, affecting a courage which 
 his shaking voice belied, " here are only you and I, and honest 
 Desborough, left behind in garrison, while all the others are absent 
 on a sally. We must not hazard the whole troops on one softie — 
 that were unmilitary — Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " In the name of Heaven, what means all this ? " said Everard. 
 " I heard a foolish tale about apparitions as I came this way, and 
 now I find you all half mad with fear, and cannot get a word of 
 sense among so many of you. Fie, Colonel Desborough — fie. 
 Master Bletson — try to compose yourselves, and let me know, in 
 Heaven's name, the cause of all this disturbance. One would be 
 apt to think your brains were turned." 
 
 " And so mine well may," said Desborough, '' ay, and overturned 
 too, since my bed last night was turned upside down, and I was 
 placed for ten minutes heels uppermost, and head downmost, like 
 a bullock going to be shot." 
 
 "What means this nonsense, Master Bletson? — Desborough 
 must have had the nightmare." 
 
 " No, faith. Colonel, the goblins, or whatever else they were, had 
 been favourable to honest Desborough, for they reposed the whole 
 of his person on that part of his body which — Hark, did you not 
 hear something? — is the central point of gravity, namely, his 
 head." 
 
 " Did you see any thing to alarm you ?" said the Colonel. 
 
 " Nothing," said Bletson ; " but we heard hellish noises, as all 
 our people did ; and I, believing little of ghosts and apparitions, 
 concluded the cavaliers were taking us at advantage ; so, remem- 
 bering Rainsborough's fate, I e'en jumped the window, and ran to 
 Woodstock, to call the soldiers to the rescue of Harrison and 
 Desborough." 
 
 " And did you not first go to see what the danger was ? " 
 
 " Ah, my good friend, you forgot that I laid down my commis- 
 sion at the time of the self-denying ordinance. It would have been 
 quite inconsistent with my duty as a Parliament-man, to be brawl- 
 ing amidst a set of ruffians, without any military authority. No — 
 when the Parliament commanded me to sheathe my sword, Colonel, 
 
155 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 I have too much veneration for their authority, to be found again 
 with it drawn in my hand." 
 
 " But the Parliament," said Desborough, hastily, " did not com- 
 mand you to use your heels when your hands could have saved a 
 man from choking. Ods dickens ! you might have stopped when 
 you saw my bed canted heels uppermost, and me half stifled in 
 the bedclothes— you might, I say, have stopped and lent a hand to 
 put it to rights, instead of jumping out of the window, like a new- 
 shorn sheep, so soon as you had run across my room." 
 
 " Nay, worshipful Master Desborough," said Bletson, winking on 
 Everard, to show that he was playing on his thickskulled colleague, 
 " how could I tell your particular mode of reposing ? — there are 
 many tastes — I have known men who slept by choice on a slope or 
 angle of forty-five." 
 
 " Yes, but did ever a man sleep standing on his head, except by 
 miracle?" said Desborough.- 
 
 "Now, as to miracles" — said the philosopher, confident in the 
 presence of Everard, besides that an opportunity of scoffing at 
 religion really in some degree diverted his fear — " I leave these 
 out of the question, seeing that the evidence on such subjects seems 
 as little qualified to carry conviction, as a horsehair to land a 
 leviathan." 
 
 A loud clap of thunder, or a noise as formidable, rang through 
 the Lodge as the scoffer had ended, which struck him pale and 
 motionless, and made Desborough throw himself on his knees, 
 and repeat exclamations and prayers in much admired confusion. 
 
 " There must be contrivance here," exclaimed Everard ; and 
 snatching one of the candles from a sconce, he rushed out of the 
 apartment, little heeding the entreaties of the philosopher, who, in 
 the extremity of his distress, conjured him by the Anhfius Muiidi 
 to remain to the assistance of a distressed philosopher endangered 
 by witches, and a Parliament-man assaulted by ruffians. As for 
 Desborough, he only gaped like a clown in a pantomime ; and, 
 doubtful whether to follow or stop, his natural indolence prevailed, 
 and he sat still. 
 
 When on the landing-place of the stairs, Everard paused a 
 moment to consider which was the best course to take. He heard 
 the voices of men talking fast and loud, like people who wish to 
 drown their fears, in the lower story ; and aware that nothing could 
 be discovered by those whose enquiries were conducted in a manner 
 so noisy, he resolved to proceed in a different direction, and exa- 
 mine the second floor, which he had now gained. 
 
 He had known every corner, both of the inhabited and uninha- 
 bited part of the mansion, and availed himself of the candle to 
 traverse two or three intricate passages, which he was afraid he 
 
WOODSTOCK. i:;; 
 
 might not remember with sufficient accuracy. This movement 
 conveyed him to a sort of ail-de-bceuf, an octfigon vestibule, or 
 small hall, from which various rooms opened. Amongst these 
 doors, Everard selected that which led to a very long, narrow, and 
 dilapidated gallery, built in the time of Henry VIII., and which, 
 running along the whole south-west side of the building, communi- 
 cated at different points with the rest of the mansion. This he 
 thought was likely to be the post occupied by those who proposed 
 to act the sprites upon the occasion ; especially as its length and 
 shape gave him some idea that it was a spot where the bold thunder 
 might in many ways be imitated. 
 
 Determined to ascertain the truth if possible, he placed his light 
 on a table in the vestibule, and applied himself to open the door 
 into the gallery. At this point he found himself strongly opposed, 
 either by a bolt drawn, or, as he rather conceived, by somebody 
 from within resisting his attempt. He was induced to believe the 
 latter, because the resistance slackened and was renewed, like that 
 of human strength, instead of presenting the permanent opposition 
 of an inanimate obstacle. Though Everard was a strong and active 
 young man, he exhausted his strength in the vain attempt to open 
 the door ; and having paused to take breath, was about to renew 
 his efforts with foot and shoulder, and to call at the same time for 
 assistance, when to his surprise, on again attempting the door more 
 gently, in order to ascertain if possible where the strength of the 
 opposing obstacle was situated, he found it give way to a very 
 slight impulse, some impediment fell broken to the ground, and 
 the door ilew wide open. The gust of wind, occasioned by the 
 sudden opening of the door, blew out the candle, and Everard was 
 left in darkness, save where the moonshine, which the long side-row 
 of latticed windows dimmed, could imperfectly force its way into 
 the gallery, which lay in ghostly length before him. 
 
 The melancholy and doubtful twilight was increased by a quan- 
 tity of creeping plants on the outside, which, since all had been 
 neglected in these ancient halls, now completely overgrown, had in 
 some instances greatly diminished, and in others almost quite 
 choked up, the space of the lattices, extending between the heavy 
 stone shaft-work which divided the windows, both lengthways and 
 across. On the other side there were no windows at all, and the 
 gallery had been once hung round with paintings, chiefly portraits, 
 by which that side of the apartment had been adorned. Most of 
 the pictures had been removed, yet the empty frames of some, and 
 the tattered remnants of others, were still visible along the ex- 
 tent of the waste gallery ; the look of which was so desolate, and 
 it appeared so well adapted for mischief, supposing there were 
 enemies near him, that Everard could not help pausing at the 
 
158 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 entrance, and recommending himself to God, ere, drawing his 
 sword, he advanced into the apartment, treading as lightly as pos- 
 sible, and keeping in the shadow as much as he could. 
 
 Markham Everard was by no means superstitious, but he had 
 the usual credulity of the times ; and though he did not yield 
 easily to tales of supernatural visitations, yet he could not help 
 thinking he was in the very situation, where, if such things were 
 ever permitted, they might be expected to take place, while his 
 own stealthy and ill-assured pace, his drawn weapon, and ex- 
 tended arms, being the very attitude and action of doubt and 
 suspicion, tended to increase in his mind the gloomy feelings of 
 which they are the usual indications, and with which they are con- 
 stantly associated. Under such unpleasant impressions, and con- 
 scious of the neighbourhood of something unfriendly. Colonel 
 Everard had already advanced about half along the gallery, when 
 he heard some one sigh very near him, and a low soft voice pro- 
 nounce his name. 
 
 " Here I am," he replied, while his heart beat thick and short. 
 " Who calls on Markham Everard ? " 
 
 Another sigh was the only answer. 
 
 " Speak," said the Colonel, " whoever or whatsoever you are, 
 and tell with what intent and purpose you are lurking in these 
 apartments ? " 
 
 " With a better intent than yours," returned the soft voice. 
 
 " Than mine ! " answered Everard in great surprise. " Who are 
 you that dare judge of my intents ? " 
 
 "What, or who are you, Markham Everard, who wander by 
 moonlight through these deserted halls of royalty, where none 
 should be but those who mourn their downfall, or are sworn to 
 avenge it ? " 
 
 " It is — and yet it cannot be," said Everard ; " yet it is, and 
 must be. — Alice Lee, the devil or you speaks. Answer me, I con- 
 jure you ! Speak openly — on what dangerous scheme are you 
 engaged ? where is your father ? why are you here ? — wherefore 
 do you run so deadly a venture ?— Speak, I conjure you, Alice 
 Lee ! " 
 
 " She whom you call on is at the distance of miles from this 
 spot. What if her Genius speaks when she is absent ? — what if 
 the soul of an ancestress of hers and yours were now addressing 
 you? — what if" 
 
 " Nay," answered Everard, « but what if the dearest of human 
 beings has caught a touch of her father's enthusiasm .'—what if 
 she is exposing her person to danger, her reputation to scandal, by 
 traversing in disguise and darkness a house filled with armed men ? 
 Speak to me, my fair cousin, in your own person. I am furnished 
 
WOODSTOCK. IS9 
 
 with powers to protect my uncle, Sir Henry — to protect you too, 
 dearest Alice, even against the consequences of this visionary and 
 wild attempt. Speak — I see where you are, and, with all my 
 respect, I cannot submit to be thus practised upon. Trust me — 
 trust your cousin Markham with your hand, and believe that he 
 will die or place you in honourable safety." 
 
 As he spoke, he exercised his eyes as keenly as possible to detect 
 where the speaker stood ; and it seemed to him, that about three 
 yards from him there was a shadowy form, of which he could not 
 discern even the outline, placed as it was within the deep and pro- 
 longed shadow thrown by a space of wall intervening betwixt two 
 windows, upon that side of the room from which the light was 
 admitted. He endeavoured to calculate, as well as he could, the 
 distance betwixt himself and the object which he watched, under 
 the impression, that if, by even using a slight degree of compulsion, 
 he could detach his beloved Alice from the confederacy into which 
 he supposed her father's zeal for the cause of royalty had engaged 
 her, he would be rendering them both the most essential favour. 
 He could not indeed but conclude, that however successfully the 
 plot which he conceived to be in agitation had proceeded against 
 the timid Bletson, the stupid Desborough, and the crazy Harrison, 
 there was little doubt that at length their artifices must necessarily 
 bring shame and danger on those engaged in it. 
 
 It must also be remembered, that Everard's affection to his 
 cousin, although of the most respectful and devoted character, 
 partook less of the distant veneration which a lover of those days 
 entertained for the lady whom he worshipped with humble diffi- 
 dence, than of the fond and familiar feelings which a brother enter- 
 tains towards a younger sister, whom he thinks himself entitled to 
 guide, advise, and even in some degree to control. So kindly and 
 intimate had been their intercourse, that he had little more hesita- 
 tion in endeavouring to arrest her progress in the dangerous course 
 in which she seemed to be engaged, even at the risk of giving her 
 momQitary offence, than he would have had in snatching her 
 from a torrent or conflagration, at the chance of hurting her by 
 the violence of his grasp. All this passed through his mind in 
 the course of a single minute ; and he resolved at all events to 
 detain her on the spot, and compel, if possible, an explanation 
 from her. 
 
 With this purpose, Everard again conjured his cousin, in the 
 name of Heaven, to give up this idle and dangerous mummery ; 
 and lending an accurate ear to her answer, endeavoured from 
 the sound to calculate as nearly as possible the distance between 
 them. 
 
 " I am not she for whom you take me," said the voice j " and 
 
iCo WOODSTOCK. 
 
 dearer regards than aught connected with her life or death, bid me 
 warn you to keep aloof, and leave this place." 
 
 " Not till I have convinced you of your childish folly," said the 
 Colonel, springing forward, and endeavouring to catch hold of her 
 who spoke to him. But no female form was within his grasp. On 
 the contrary, he was met by a shock which could come from no 
 woman's arm, and which was rude enough to stretch him on his 
 back on the floor. At the same time he felt the point of a sword 
 at his throat, and his hands so completely mastered, that not the 
 slightest defence remained to him. 
 
 " A cry for assistance," said a voice near him, but not that which 
 he had hitherto heard, " will be stifled in your blood ! — No harm is 
 meant you — ^be wise, and be silent." 
 
 The fear of death, which Everard had often braved in the field 
 of battle, became more intense as he felt himself in the hands of 
 unknown assassins, and totally devoid of all means of defence. 
 The sharp point of the sword pricked his bare throat, and the foot 
 of him who held it was upon his breast. He felt as if a single 
 thrust would put an end to life, and all the feverish joys and sor- 
 rows which agitate us so strangely, and from which we are yet so 
 reluctant to part. Large drops of perspiration stood upon his fore- 
 head — his heart throbbed, as if it would burst from its confinement 
 in the bosom — he experienced the agony which fear imposes on the 
 brave man, acute in proportion to that which pain inflicts when it 
 subdues the robust and healthy. 
 
 " Cousin Alice," — he attempted to speak, and the sword's point 
 pressed his throat yet more closely, — " Cousin, let me not be mur- 
 dei-ed in a manner so fearful ! " 
 
 " I tell you," replied the voice, "that you speak to one who is 
 not here ; but your life is not aimed at, provided you swear on 
 your faith as a Christian, and your honour as a gentleman, that you 
 will conceal what has happened, whether from the people below, 
 or from any other person. On this condition you may rise ; and 
 if you seek her, you will find Alice Lee at Joceline's cottage in the 
 forest." 
 
 " Since I may not help myself otherwise," said Everard, " I 
 swear, as I have a sense of religion and honour, I will say nothing 
 of this violence, nor make any search after those who are concerned 
 in it." 
 
 " For that we care nothing," said the voice. " Thou hast an 
 example how well thou mayst catch mischief on thy own part ; but 
 we are in case to defy thee. Rise and begone ! " 
 
 The foot, the sword's-point, were withdrawn, and Everard was 
 anout to start up hastily, when the voice, in the same softness of 
 tone which distinguished it at first, said, " No haste— cold and bare 
 
WOODSTOCK. ifit 
 
 steel is yet around thee. Now — now— now— [the words dying 
 away as at a distance] — thou art free. Be secret and be safe." 
 
 Markham Everard arose, and, in rising, embarrassed his feet with 
 his own sword, which he had dropped when springing forward, as 
 he supposed, to lay hold of his fair cousin. He snatched it up in 
 haste, and as his hand clasped the hilt, his courage, which had 
 given way under the apprehension of instant death, began to 
 return ; he considered, with almost his usual composure, what was 
 to be done next. Deeply affronted at the disgrace which he had 
 sustained, he questioned for an instant whether he ought to keep 
 his extorted promise, or should not leather summon assistance, and 
 make haste to discover and seize those who had been recently 
 engaged in such violence on his person. But these persons, be they 
 who they would, had had his life in their power — he had pledged 
 his word in ransom of it — and what was more, he could not divest 
 himself of the idea that his beloved Alice was a confidant, at least, 
 if not an actor, in the confederacy which had thus baffled him. 
 This prepossession determined his conduct ; for, though angry at 
 supposing she must have been accessory to his personal ill-treat- 
 ment, he could not in any event think of an instant search through 
 the mansion, which might have compromised her safety, or that oi 
 his uncle. " But I will to the hut," he said — " I will instantly to 
 the hut, ascertain her share in this wild and dangerous confederacy, 
 and snatch her from ruin, if it be possible." 
 
 As, under the influence of the resolution which he had formed, 
 Everard groped his way through the gallery, and regained the 
 vestibule, he heard his name called by the well-known voice of 
 Wildrake. " What — ho ! — holla ! — Colonel Everard — Mark Eve- 
 rard — it is dark as the devil's mouth — speak — where are you ? — 
 The witches are keeping their hellish sabbath here, as I think. — 
 Where are you ? " 
 
 " Here, here ! " answered Everard. " Cease your bawling. Turn 
 to the left, and you will meet me." 
 
 Guided by his voice, Wildrake soon appeared, with a light in 
 one hand, and his drawn sword in the other. " Where have you 
 been ?" he said—" what has detained you ? — Here are Bletson and 
 the brute Desborough terrified out of their lives, and Harrison 
 raving mad, because the devil will not be civil enough to rise to 
 fight him in single duello'' 
 
 " Saw or heard you nothing as you came along ? " said Everard- 
 
 " Nothing," said his friend, " excepting that when I first entered 
 this cursed ruinous labyrinth, the light was struck out of my \xxaA, 
 as if by a switch, which obliged me to return for another." 
 
 " I must come by a horse instantly, Wildrake, and another foif 
 thyself, if it be possible." 
 
 M 
 
162 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 " We can take two of those belonging to the troopers," answered 
 Wildrake. " But for what purpose should we run away, like rats, 
 at this time in the evening ?— Is the house falling ? " 
 
 " I cannot answer you," said the Colonel, pushing forward into a 
 room where there were some remains of furniture. 
 
 Here the cavalier took a more strict view of his person, and 
 exclaimed in wonder, " What the devil have you been fighting with, 
 Markham, that has bedizened you after this sorry fashion?" 
 
 " Fighting ! " exclaimed Everard. 
 
 " Yes," replied his trusty attendant, " I say fighting. Look at 
 yourself in the mirror." 
 
 He did, and saw he was covered with dust and blood. The 
 latter proceeded from a scratch which he had received in the 
 throat, as he struggled to extricate himself. With unaffected 
 alarm, Wildrake undid his friend's collar, and with eager haste 
 proceeded to examine the wound, his hands trembling, and his 
 eyes glistening with apprehension for his benefactor's life. When, 
 in spite of Everard's opposition, he had examined the hurt, and 
 found it trifling, he resumed the natural wildness of his character, 
 perhaps the more readily that he had felt shame in departing from 
 it, into one which expressed more of feeling than he would be 
 thought to possess. 
 
 " If that be the devil's work, Mark," said he, "the foul fiend's 
 claws are not nigh so formidable as they are represented ; but no 
 pne shall say that your blood has been shed unrevenged, while 
 Roger Wildrake was by your side. Where left you this same imp? 
 I will back to the field of fight, confront him with my rapier, 
 and were his nails tenpenny nails, and his teeth as long as 
 those of a harrow, he shall render me reason for the injury he has 
 done you." 
 
 " Madness— madness ! " exclaimed Everard ; " I had this trifling 
 hurt by a fall — a basin and towel will wipe it away. Meanwhile, 
 if you will ever do me kindness, get the troop-horses— command 
 them for the service of the public, in the name of his Excellency 
 the General. I will but wash, and join you in an instant before 
 the gate." 
 
 , " Well, I will serve you, Everard, as a mute serves the Grand 
 Signior, without knowmg why or wherefore. But will you go with- 
 out seeing these people below ? " 
 
 " Without seeing any one," said Everard ; " lose no time, for 
 God's sake." 
 
 He found out the non-commissioned officer, and demanded the' 
 horses in a tone of authority, to which the corporal yielded undis- 
 puted obedience, as one well aware of Colonel Everard's military 
 rank and consequence. So all was in a minute or two ready for 
 the expedition. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 163 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 She kneel'd, and saintlike 
 
 Cast her eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly. 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 Colonel Everard's departure at the late hour, for so it was 
 then thought, of seven in the evening, excited much speculation. 
 There was a gathering of menials and dependents in the outer 
 chamber, or hall, for no one doubted that his sudden departure 
 was owing to his having, as they expressed it, " seen something," 
 and all desired to know how a man of such acknowledged courage 
 as Everard, looked Under the awe of a recent apparition. But he 
 gave them no time to make comments ; for, striding through the 
 hall wrapt in his riding suit, he threw himself on horseback, 
 and rode furiously through the Chase, towards the hut of the 
 keeper Joliffe. 
 
 It was the disposition of Markham Everard to be hot, keen, 
 earnest, impatient, and decisive to a degree of precipitation. The 
 acquired habits which education had taught, and which the strong 
 moral and religious discipline of his sect had greatly strengthened, 
 were such as to enable him to conceal, as well as to check, this 
 constitutional violence, and to place him upon his guard against 
 indulging it. But when in the high tide of violent excitation, the 
 natural impetuosity of the young soldier's temper was sometimes 
 apt to overcome these artificial obstacles, and then, like a torrent 
 foaming over a wear, it became more furious, as if in revenge for 
 the constrained calm which it had been for some time obliged to 
 assume. In these instances he was accustomed to see only that 
 point to which his thoughts were bent, and to move straight towards 
 it, whether a moral objfect, or the storming of a breach, without 
 either calculating, or even appearing lo see, the difficulties which 
 were before him. 
 
 At present, his ruling and impelling motive was to detach his 
 beloved cousin, if possible, from the dangerous and discreditable 
 machinations in which he suspected her to have engaged, or, on 
 the other hand, to discover that she really had no concern with 
 these stratagems. He should know how to judge of that in some 
 measure, he thought, by finding her present or absent at the hut, 
 towards which he was now galloping. He had read, indeed, in 
 some ballad or minstrel's tale, of a singular deception practised on 
 a jealous old man, by means of a subterranean communication 
 between his house and that of a neighbour, which the lady in 
 
 M 2 
 
i64 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 question made use of to present herself in the two places alter- 
 nately, with such speed, and so much address, that, after repeated 
 experiments, the dotard was deceived into the opinion, that his 
 wife, and the lady who was so very like her, and to whom his 
 neighbour paid so much attention, were two different persons. 
 But in the present case there was no room for such a deception ; 
 the distance was too great, and as he took by much the nearest 
 way from the castle, and rode full speed, it would be impossible, he 
 knew, for his cousin, who was a timorous horsewoman even by 
 daylight, to have got home before him. 
 
 Her father might indeed be displeased at his interference ; but 
 what title had he to be so ? — Was not Alice Lee the near relation 
 of his blood, the dearest object of his heart, and would he now 
 abstain from an effort to save her from the consequences of a silly 
 and wild conspiracy, because the old knight's spleen might be 
 awakened by Everard's making his appearance at their present 
 dweUing contrary to his commands ? No. He would endure the 
 old man's harsh language, as he endured the blast of the autumn 
 . wind, which was howling around him, and swinging the crashing 
 branches of the trees under which he passed, but could not oppose, 
 or even retard, his journey. 
 
 If he found not Alice, as he had reason to believe she would be 
 absent, to Sir Henry Lee himself he would explain what he had 
 witnessed. However she might have become accessory to the 
 juggling tricks performed at Woodstock, he could not but think it 
 was without her father's knowledge, so severe a judge was the old 
 knight of female propriety, and so strict an assertor of female 
 decorum. He would take the same opportunity, he thought, of 
 stating to him the well-grounded hopes he entertained, that his 
 dwelling at the Lodge might be prolonged, and the sequestrators 
 removed from the royal mansion and domains, by other means 
 than those of the absurd species of intimidation which seemed 
 to be resorted to, to scare them from thence. 
 
 All this seemed to be so much within the line of his duty as a 
 relative, that it was not until he halted at the door of the ranger's 
 hut, and threw his bridle into Wildrake's hand, that Everard re- 
 collected the fiery, high, and unbending character of Sir Henry 
 Lee, and felt, even when his fingers were on the latch, a reluctance 
 to intrude himself upon the presence of the irritable old knight. 
 
 But there was no time for hesitation. Bevis, who had already 
 bayed more than once from within the Lodge, was growing impa- 
 tient, and Everard had but just time to bid Wildrake hold the 
 horses until he should send Joceline to his assistance, when old 
 Joan unpinned the door, to demand who was without at that time 
 of the night. To have attempted any thing like an explanation 
 
WOODSTOCK. i6s 
 
 with poor dame Joan, would have been quite. hopeless; the Colonel, 
 therefore, put her gently aside, and shaking himself loose from the 
 hold she had laid on his cloak, entered the kitchen of Joceline's 
 dwelling. Bevis, who had advanced to support Joan in her oppo- 
 sition, humbled his lion-port, with that wonderful instinct which 
 makes his race remember so long those with whom they have been 
 familiar, and acknowledged his master's relative, by doing homage 
 in his fashion, with his head and tail. 
 
 Colonel Everard, more uncertain in his purpose every moment 
 as the necessity of its execution drew near, stole over the floor like 
 one who treads in a sick chamber, and opening the door of the 
 interior apartment with a slow and tembling hand, as he would 
 have withdrawn the curtains of a dying friend, he saw, within, the 
 scene which we are about to describe. 
 
 Sir Henry Lee sat in a wicker arm-chair by the fire. He was 
 wrapped in a cloak, and his limbs extended on a stool, as if he 
 were suffering from gout or indisposition. His long white beard 
 flowing over the dark-coloured garment, gave him more the ap- 
 pearance of a hermit than of an aged soldier or man of quality ; 
 and that character was increased by the deep and devout attention 
 with which he listened to a respectable old man, whose dilapidated 
 dress showed still something of the clerical habit, and who, with a 
 low, but full and deep voice, was reading the Evening Service 
 according to the Church of England. Alice Lee kneeled at the 
 feet of her father, and made the responses with a voice that might 
 have suited the choir of angels, and a modest and serious devotion, 
 which suited the melody of her tone. The face of the officiating 
 clergyman would have been good-looking, had it not been disfigured 
 with a black patch which covered the left eye and a part of his face, 
 and had not the features which were visible been marked with the 
 traces of care and suffering. 
 
 When Colonel Everard entered, the clergyman raised his finger, 
 as cautioning him to forbear disturbing the divine service of the 
 evening, and pointed to a seat ; to which, struck deeply with the 
 scene he had witnessed, the intruder stole with as light a step as 
 possible, and knelt devoutly down as one of the little congregation. 
 
 Everard had been bred by his father what was called a Puritan ; 
 a member of a sect who, in the primitive sense of the word, were 
 persons that did not except against the doctrines of the Church of 
 England, or even in all respects against its hierarchy, but chiefly 
 dissented from it on the subject of certain ceremonies, habits, and 
 forms of ritual, which were insisted upon by the celebrated and 
 unfortunate Laud, with ill-timed tenacity.* But even if, from the 
 habits of his father's house, Everard's" opinions had been diametri- 
 cally opposed to the doctrines of the English Church, he must have- 
 
lae WOODSTOCK. 
 
 been reconciled to them by the regularity with which the service 
 was performed in his uncle's family at Woodstock, who, during the 
 blossom of his fortunes, generally had a chaplain residing in the 
 Lodge for that special purpose. 
 
 Yet deep as was the habitual veneration with which he heard the 
 impressive service of the Church, Everard's eyes could not help 
 straying towards Alice, and his thoughts wandering to the purpose 
 of his presence there. She seemed to have recognised him at once, 
 for there was a deeper glow than usual upon her cheek, her fingers 
 trembled as they turned the leaves of her prayer-book, and her 
 voice, lately as firm as it was melodious, faltered when she repeated 
 the responses. It appeared to Everard, as far as he could collect 
 by the stolen glances which he directed towards her, that the 
 character of her beauty, as well as of her outward appearance, had 
 changed with her fortunes. 
 
 The beautiful and high-born young lady had now approachea as 
 nearly as possible to the brown stuff dress of an ordinary village 
 maiden ; but what she had lost in gaiety of appearance, she had 
 gained as it seemed in dignity. Her beautiful light-brown tresses, 
 now folded around her head, and only curled where nature had so 
 arranged them, gave her an air of simplicity, which did not exist 
 when her headdress showed the skill of a curious tire-woman. A 
 light joyous air, with something of a humorous expression, which 
 seemed to be looking for amusement, had vanished before the touch 
 of affliction, and a calm melancholy supplied its place, which 
 seemed on the watch to administer comfort to others. Perhaps 
 the former arch, though innocent expression of countenance, was 
 uppermost in her lover's recollection, when he concluded that Ahce 
 had acted a part in the disturbances which had taken place at the 
 Lodge. It is certain, that when he now looked upon her, it was 
 with shame for having nourished such a suspicion, and the resolu- 
 tion to believe rather that the devil had imitated her voice, than 
 that a creature, who seemed so much above the feelings of this 
 world, and so nearly allied to the purity of the next, should have 
 had the indelicacy to mingle in such manoeuvres as he himself and 
 others had been subjected to. 
 
 These thoughts shot through his mind, in spite of the impro- 
 priety of indulging them at such a moment. The service now 
 approached the close ; and a good deal to Colonel Everard's sur- 
 prise as well as confusion, the officiating priest, in firm and audible 
 tone, and with every attribute of dignity, prayed to the Almighty to 
 bless and preserve " Our Sovereign Lord, King Charles, the lawful 
 and undoubted King of these realms." The petition (in those days 
 most dangerous) was pronounced with a full, raised, and distinct 
 articulation, as if the priest challenged all who heard him to dissent 
 
WOODSTOCK. 167 
 
 if they dared. If the republican officer did not assent to the petition, 
 he thought at least it was no time to protest against it. 
 
 The service was concluded in the usual manner, and the little 
 congregation arose. It now included Wildrake, who had entered 
 during the latter prayer, and was the first of the party to speak, 
 running up to the priest, and shaking him by the hand most 
 heartily, swearing at the same time, that he truly rejoiced to see 
 him. The good clergyman returned the pressure with a smile, 
 observing he should have believed his asseveration without an oath. 
 In the meanwhile. Colonel Everard, approaching his uncle's seat, 
 made a deep inclination of respect, first to Sir Henry Lee, and then 
 to Alice, whose colour now spread from her cheek to her brow and 
 bosom. 
 
 " I have to crave your excuse,'' said the Colonel with hesitation, 
 " for having chosen for my visit, which I dare not hope would be 
 very agreeable at any time, a season most peculiarly unsuitable." 
 
 " So far from it, nephew," answered Sir Henry, with much more 
 mildness of manner than Everard had dared to expect, " that your 
 visits at other times would be much more welcome, had we the 
 fortune to see you often at our hours of worship." 
 
 " I hope the time will soon come, sir, when Englishmen of all 
 sects and denominations," replied Everard, " will be free in con- 
 science to worship in common the great Father, whom they all 
 after their manner call by that affectionate name." 
 
 " I hope so too, nephew," said the old man in the same unaltered 
 tone ; " and we will not at present dispute, whether you would 
 have the Church of England coalesce with the Conventicle, or the 
 Conventicle conform to the Church. It was, I ween, not to settle 
 jarring creeds, that you have honoured our poor dwelling, where, 
 to say the truth, we dared scarce have expected to see you again, 
 so coarse was our last welcome." 
 
 " I should be happy to believe," said Colonel Everard, hesitating, 
 '■ that — that — in short my presence was not now so unwelcome here 
 as on that occasion." 
 
 'f Nephew," said Sir Henry, " I will be frank with you. When 
 you were last here, I thought you had stolen from me a precious 
 pearl, which at one time it would have been my pride and happiness 
 to have bestowed on you ; but which, being such as you have been 
 of late, I would bury in the depths of the earth rather than give to 
 your keeping. This somewhat chafed, as honest Will says, ' the 
 rash humour which my mother gave me.' I thought I was robbed, 
 and I thought I saw the robber before me. I am mistaken — I am 
 not robbed ; and the attempt without the deed I can pardon." 
 
 " I would not willingly seek offence in your words, sir,'' said 
 Colonel Everard, " when their general purport sounds kind ', but I 
 
i68 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 can protest before Heaven, that my views and wishes towards you 
 and your family are as void of selfish hopes and selfish ends, as 
 they are fraught with love to you and to yours." 
 
 "Let us hear them, man; we are not much accustomed to 
 good wishes now-a-days ; and their very rarity will make them 
 welcome." 
 
 " I would willingly, Sir Henry, since you might not choose me 
 to give you a more affectionate name, convert those wishes into 
 something effectual for your comfort. Your fate, as the world now 
 stands, is bad, and, I fear, like to be worse." 
 
 " Worse than I expect it cannot be. Nephew, I do not shrink 
 before my changes of fortune. I shall wear coarser clothes, — I 
 shall feed on more ordinary food, — men will not doff their cap to 
 me as they were wont, when I was the great and the wealthy. 
 What of that ? Old Harry Lee loved his honour better than his 
 title, his faith better than his land and lordship. Have I not seen 
 the 30th of January ? I am neither philomath nor astrologer ; 
 but old Will teaches me, that when green leaves fall winter is at 
 hand, and that darkness will come when the sun sets." 
 
 " Bethink you, sir," said Colonel Everard, " if, without any sub- 
 mission asked, any oath taken, any engagement imposed, express 
 or tacit, excepting that you are not to excite disturbances in the 
 public peace, you can be restored to your residence in the Lodge, 
 and your usual fortunes and perquisites there — I have great reason 
 to hope this may be permitted, if not expressly, at least on 
 sufferance." 
 
 " Yes, I understand you. I am to be treated like the royal coin, 
 marked with the ensign of the Rump to make it pass current, 
 although I am too old to have the royal insignia grinded off from 
 me. Kinsman, I will have none of this. I have lived at the 
 Lodge too long ; and let me tell you, I had left it in scorn long 
 since, but for the orders of one whom I may yet live to do service 
 to. I will take nothing from the usurpers, be their name Rump or 
 Cromwell — be they one devil or legion — I will not take from them 
 an old cap to cover my grey hairs — a cast cloak to protect my frail 
 limbs from the cold. They shall not say they have, by their unwil- 
 ling bounty, made Abraham rich— I will live, as I will die, the Loyal 
 Lee." 
 
 " May I hope you will think of it, sir; and that you will, perhaps, 
 considering what slight submission is asked, give me a 'better 
 answer ? " 
 
 " Sir, if I retract my opinion, which is not my wont, you shall 
 hear of it. — And now, cousin, have you more to say .' We keep 
 that worthy clergyman in the outer room." 
 
 " Something I had to say — something touching my cousin Alice," 
 
WOODSTOCK. 169 
 
 said Everard, with embarrassment ; " but I fear that the preju- 
 dices of both are so strong against me " 
 
 " Sir, I dare turn my daughter loose to you— I will go join the 
 good doctor in dame Joan's apartment. I am not unwilling that 
 you should know that the girl hath, in all reasonable sort, the 
 exercise of her free-will." 
 
 He withdrew, and left the cousins together. 
 
 Colonel Everard advanced to Alice, and was about to take her 
 hand. She drew back, took the seat which her father had occupied, 
 and pointed out to him one at some distance. 
 
 " Are we then so much estranged, my dearest Alice ? " he said. 
 
 " We will speak of that presently," she replied. " In the first 
 place, let me ask the cause of your visit here at so late an hour." 
 
 " You heard," said Everard, " what I stated to your father ? " 
 
 " I did ; but that seems to have been only part of your errand — 
 something there seemed to be which applied particularly to me." 
 
 " It was a fancy — a strange mistake," answered Everard. " May 
 I ask if you have been abroad this evening ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," she replied. " I have small temptation to 
 wander from my present home, poor as it is ; and whilst here, I 
 have important duties to discharge. But why does Colonel Everard 
 ask so strange a question ? " 
 
 " Tell me in turn, why your cousin Markham has lost the name 
 of friendship and kindred, and even of some nearer feeling, and 
 then I will answer you, Alice." 
 
 " It is soon answered," she said. " When you drew your sword 
 against my father's cause — almost against his person — I studied, 
 more than I should have done, to find excuse for you. I knew, 
 that is, I thought I knew, your high feelings of public duty— I 
 knew the opinions in which you have been bred up ; and I said, 
 I will not, even for this, cast him off— he opposes his King because 
 he is loyal to his country. You endeavoured to avert the great and 
 concluding tragedy of the 30th of January ; and it confirmed me in 
 my opinion, that Markham Everard might be misled, but could 
 not be base or selfish." 
 
 " And what has changed your opinion, Alice ? or who dare," said 
 Everard, reddening, " attach such epithets to the name of Markham 
 Everard .'' " 
 
 " I am no subject," she said, " for exercising your valour. Colonel 
 Everard, nor do I mean to offend. But you will find enough of 
 others who will avow, that Colonel Everard is truckling to the 
 usurper Cromwell, and that all his fair pretexts of forwarding his 
 country's liberties, are but a screen for driving a bargain with the 
 successful encroacher, and obtaining the best terms he can for 
 himself and his family," 
 
170 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " For myself— Never ! " 
 
 " But for your family you have — ^Yes, I am well assured that you 
 have pointed out to the military tyrant, the way in which he and 
 his satraps may master the government. Do you think my father 
 or I would accept an asylum purchased at the price of England's 
 liberty, and your honour ? " 
 
 " Gracious Heaven, Alice, what is this ? You accuse me of 
 pursuing the very course which so lately had your approbation ! " 
 
 "When you spoke with authority of your father, and recom- 
 mended our submission to the existing government, such as it was, 
 I own I thought— that my father's grey head might, without 
 dishonour, had remained under the roof where it had so long been 
 sheltered. But did your father sanction your becoming the adviser 
 of yonder ambitious soldier to a new course of innovation, and his 
 abettor in the establishment of a new species of tyranny .' — It is 
 one thing to submit to oppression, another to be the agent of 
 tyrants — And O, Markham — their bloodhound ! " 
 
 "How! bloodhound? — what mean you? — I own it is true I 
 could see with content the wounds of this bleeding country 
 stanched, even at the expense of beholding Cromwell, after his 
 matchless rise, take a yet further step to power — but to be his 
 bloodhound ! What is your meaning ? " 
 
 " It is false, then ?— Ah, I thought I could swear it had been 
 false!" 
 
 " What, in the name of God, is it you ask ? " 
 
 " It is false that you are engaged to betray the young King of 
 Scotland?" 
 
 " Betray him ! / betray him, or any fugitive ? Never ! I 
 would he were well out of England — I would lend him my aid to 
 escape, were he in the house at this instant ; and think in acting 
 so I did his enemies good service, by preventing their soiling them- 
 selves with his blood— but betray him, never ! " 
 
 " I knew it — I was sure it was impossible. Oh, be yet more 
 honest ; disengage yourself from yonder gloomy and ambitious 
 soldier ! Shun him and his schemes, which are formed in injustice, 
 and can only be realized in yet more blood ! " 
 
 " Believe me," replied Everard, " that I choose the line of policy 
 best befitting the times." 
 
 " Choose that," she said, " which best befits duty, Markham— 
 which best befits truth and honour. Do your duty, and let 
 Providence decide the rest.— Farewell ! we tempt my father's 
 patience too fap — you know his temper— farewell, Markham." 
 
 She extended her hand, which he pressed to his lips, and left 
 the apartment. A silent bow to his uncle, and a sign to Wild- 
 rake, whom he found in the kitchen of the cabin, were the only 
 
WOODSTOCK. 171 
 
 tokens of recognition exhibited, and leaving the hut, he was soon 
 mounted, and, with his companion, advar.ced on his return to the 
 Lodge. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 • Deeds are done on earth, 
 
 Which have their punishment ere the earth closes 
 
 Upon the perpetrators. Be it the working 
 
 Of the remorse-stirr'd fancy, or the vision. 
 
 Distinct and real, of unearthly being. 
 
 All ages witness, that beside the couch 
 
 Of the fell homicide oft stalks the ghost 
 
 Of him he slew, and shows the shadowy wound. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 EVERARD had come to Joceline's hut as fast as horse could bear 
 him, and with the same impetuosity of purpose as of speed. He 
 saw no choice in the course to be pursued, and felt in his own 
 imagination the strongest right to direct, and even reprove, his 
 cousin, beloved as she was, on account of the dangerous machina- 
 tions with which she appeared to have connected herself. He 
 returned slowly, and in a very different mood. 
 
 Not only had Alice, prudent as beautiful, appeared completely 
 free from the weakness of conduct which seemed to give him some 
 authority over her, but her views of policy, if less practicable, were 
 so much more direct and noble than his own, as led him to question 
 whether he had not compromised himself too rashly with Cromwell, 
 even although the state of the country was so greatly divided and 
 torn by faction, that the promotion of the General to the possession 
 of the executive government seemed the only chance of escaping a 
 renewal of the Civil War. The more exalted and purer sentiments 
 of Alice lowered him in his own eyes ; and though unshaken in his 
 opinion, that it were better the vessel should be steered by a pilot 
 having no good title to the office, than that she should run upon the 
 breakers, he felt that he was not espousing the most direct, manly, 
 and disinterested side of the question. 
 
 As he rode on, immersed in these unpleasant contemplations, and 
 considerably lessened in his own esteem by what had happened, 
 Wildrake, who rode by his side, and was no friend to long silence, 
 began to enter into conversation. " I have been thinking, Mark," 
 said he, " that if you and I had been called to the bar— as, by the 
 by, has been in danger of happening to me in more senses than 
 one— I say, had we become barristers, I would have had the better 
 oiled tongue of the two— the fairer art of persuasion." 
 
172 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Everard, " though I never hgard thee use 
 any, save to induce an usurer to lend thee money, or a taverner to 
 abate a reckoning." 
 
 " And yet this day, or rather night, I could have, as I think, 
 made a conquest which baffled you." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said the Colonel, becoming attentive. 
 
 " Why, look you," said Wildrake, " it was a main object with you 
 to induce Mistress Alice Lee — ^by Heaven, she is an exquisite 
 creature — I approve of your taste, Mark — I say you desire to 
 persuade her, and the stout old Trojan her father, to consent to 
 return to the Lodge, and live there quietly, and under connivance, 
 like gentlefolk, instead of lodging in a hut hardly fit to harbour a 
 Tom of Bedlam." 
 
 *' Thou art right ; such, indeed, was a great part of my object in 
 this visit," answered Everard. 
 
 " But, perhaps, you also expected to visit there yourself, and so 
 keep watch over pretty Mistress Lee — eh ? " 
 
 " I never entertained so selfish a thought," said Everard ; " and 
 il this nocturnal disturbance at the mansion were explained and 
 ended, I would instantly take my departure." 
 
 "Your friend Noll would expect something more from you," said 
 Wildrake — " he would expect, in case the knight's reputation for 
 loyalty should draw any of our poor exiles and wanderers about the 
 Lodge, that you should be on the watch, and ready to snap them. 
 In a word — as far as I can understand his long-winded speeches — 
 he would have Woodstock a trgip, your uncle and his pretty daughter 
 the bait of toasted cheese — craving your Chloe's pardon for the 
 comparison — you the spring-fall which should bar their escape— 
 his Lordship himself being the great grimalkin to whom they are to 
 be given over to be devoured." 
 
 " Dared Cromwell mention this to thee in express terms ? " said 
 Everard, pulling up his horse, and stopping in the midst of the 
 road. 
 
 " Nay, not in express terms, which I do not believe he ever used 
 in his life — you might as well expect a drunken man to go straight 
 forward ; but he insinuated as much to me, and indicated that you 
 might deserve well of him — Gadzo — the damnable proposal sticks 
 in my throat — by betraying our noble and rightful King, [here he 
 pulled off his hat,] whom God grant in health and wealth long to 
 reign, as the worthy clergyman says, though I fear just now his 
 Majesty is both sick and sorry, and never a penny in his pouch to 
 boot." 
 
 " This tallies with what Alice hinted," said Everard ; " but how 
 could she know it ? didst thou give her any hint of such a thing ? " 
 
 " I ? " replied the cavalier, " I, who never saw Mistress Alic? 
 
WOODSTOCK. 173 
 
 in my life till to-night, and then only for an instant— zooks, man, 
 how is that possible ? " 
 
 " True," rephed Everard, and seemed lost in thought. At length 
 he spoke — " I should call Cromwell to account for his bad opinion 
 of me ; for, even though not seriously expressed, but, as I am 
 convinced it was, with the sole view of proving you, and perhaps 
 myself, it was, nevertheless, a misconstruction to be resented." 
 
 " I'll carry a cartel for you, with all my heart and soul," said 
 Wildrake : " and turn out with his godliness's second, with as 
 good will as I ever drank a glass of sack." 
 
 "Pshaw," replied Everard, "those in his high place fight no 
 single combats. — But tell me, Roger Wildrake, didst thou thyself 
 think me capable of the falsehood and treachery implied in such a 
 message ? " 
 
 "I !" exclaimed Wildrake. — " Markham Everard, you have been 
 my early friend, my constant benefactor. When Colchester was 
 reduced, you saved me from the gallows, and since that thou hast 
 twenty times saved me from starving. But, by Heaven, if I thought 
 you capable of such villainy as your General recommended, — by 
 yonder blue sky, and all the works of creation which it bends over, 
 I would stab you with my own hand ! " 
 
 " Death," replied Everard, " I should indeed deserve, but not from 
 you, perhaps ;— but fortunately, I cannot, if I would, be guilty of 
 the treachery you would punish. Know that I had this day secret 
 notice, and from Cromwell himself, that the young man has escaped 
 by sea from Bristol." 
 
 " Now, God Almighty be blessed, who protected him through so 
 many dangers!" exclaimed Wildrake. — "Huzza! — Up hearts, 
 cavaliers ! — Hey for cavaliers I — God bless King Charles !— Moon 
 and stars, catch my hat ! " — and he threw it up as high as he could 
 into the air. The celestial bodies which he invoked did not receive the 
 present dispatched to them ; but, as in the case of Sir Henry Lee's 
 scabbard, an old gnarled oak became a second time the receptacle 
 of a waif and stray of loyal enthusiasm. Wildrake looked rather 
 foolish at the circumstance, and his friend took the opportunity of 
 admonishing him. 
 
 "Art thou not ashamed to bear thee so like a schoolboy? " 
 
 " Why," said Wildrake, " I have but sent a Puritan's hat upon a 
 loyal errand. I laugh to think how many of the schoolboys thou 
 talk'st of will be cheated into climbing the pollard next year, ex- 
 pecting to find the nest of some unknown bird in yonder unmeasured 
 margin of felt." 
 
 "Hush now, for God's sake, and let us speak calmly," said 
 Everard. " Charles has escaped, and I am glad of it. I would 
 willingly have seen him on his father's throne by composition, but 
 
174 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 not by the force of the Scottish army, and the incensed and 
 vengeful royalists " — 
 
 "Master Markham Everard," began the cavalier, interrupting 
 him 
 
 " Nay, hush, dear Wildrake," said Everard ; " let us not dispute 
 a point on which we cannot agree, and give me leave to go on. — I 
 say, since the young man has escaped, Cromwell's offensive and 
 injurious stipulation falls to the ground ; and I see not why my 
 uncle and his family should not again enter their own house, under 
 the same terms of connivance as many other royalists. What may 
 be incumbent on me is different, nor can I determine my course 
 until I have an interview with the General, which, as I think, will 
 end in his confessing that he threw in this offensive proposal to 
 sound us both. It is much in his manner ; for he is blunt, and 
 never sees [or feels the punctilious honour which the gallants of 
 the day stretch to such delicacy." 
 
 " I'll acquit him of having any punctilio about him," said 
 Wildrake, "either touching honour or honesty.^Now, to come back 
 to where we started. — Supposing you were not to reside in person 
 at the Lodge, and to forbear even visiting there, unless on invitation, 
 when such a thing can be brought about, I tell you frankly, I think 
 your uncle and his daughter might be induced to come back to the 
 Lodge, and reside there as usual. At least the clergyman, that 
 worthy old cock, gave me to hope as much." 
 
 " He had been hasty in bestowing his confidence," said Everard. 
 
 " True," replied Wildrake ; " he confided in me at once ; for he 
 instantly saw my regard for the church. I thank Heaven I never 
 passed a clergyman in his canonicals without pulling my hat off — 
 (and thou knowest, the most desperate duel I ever fought was with 
 young Grayless of the Inner Teijlple, for taking the wall of the 
 Reverend Dr. Bunce) — ^Ah, I catf gain a chaplain's ear instantly. 
 Gadzooks, they know whom they have to trust to in such a one as I." 
 
 " Dost thou think, then," said Colonel Everard, " or rather does 
 this clergyman think, that if they were secure of intrusion from me, 
 the family would return to the Lodge, supposing the intruding Com- 
 missioners gone, and this nocturnal disturbance explained and 
 ended?" 
 
 "The old PCnight," answered Wildrake, " may be wrought upon 
 by the Doctor to return, if he is secure against intrusion. As for 
 disturbances, the stout old boy, so far as I can learn in two 
 minutes' conversation, laughs at all this turmoil as the work of 
 mere imagination, the consequence of the remorse of their own 
 evil consciences ; and says that goblin or devil was never heard of 
 at Woodstock, until it became the residence of such men as they, 
 who have now usurped the possession." 
 
WOODSTOCK, 175 
 
 " There is more than imagination in it," said Everard. " I have 
 personal reason to know there is some conspiracy carrying on, to 
 render the house untenable by the Commissioners. I acquit my 
 uncle of accession to such a silly trick ; but I must see it ended 
 ere I can agree to his and my cousin's residing where such a 
 confederacy exists ; for they are likely to be considered as the 
 contrivers of such pranks, be the actual agent who he may." 
 
 " With reverence to your better acquaintance with the gentle- 
 man, Everard, I should rather suspect the old father of Puritans (I 
 beg your pardon again) has something to do with the business ; 
 and if so, Lucifer will never look near the true old Knight's beard, 
 nor abide a glance of yonder maiden's innocent blue eyes, I will 
 uphold them as safe as pure gold in a miser's chest." 
 
 " Sawest thou aught thyself, which makes thee think thus ?" 
 
 " Not a quill of the devil's pinion saw I," replied Wildrake. " He 
 supposes himself too secure of an old cavalier, who must steal, hang, 
 or drown, in the long run, so he gives himself no trouble to look 
 after the assured booty. But I heard the serving-fellows prate of 
 what they had seen and heard ; and though their tales were con- 
 fused enough, yet if there was any truth among them at all, I should 
 say the devil must have been in the dance. — But, holla ! here comes 
 some one upon us. — Stand, friend — who art thou ?" 
 
 "A poor daylabourer in the great work of England — Joseph 
 Tomkins by name — Secretary to a godly and well-endowed leader 
 in this poor Christian army of England, called General Harrison." 
 
 " What news. Master Tomkins ? " said Everard ; " and why are 
 you on the road at this late hour ? " 
 
 "I speak to the worthy Colonel Everard, as I judge?" said 
 Tomkins ; " and truly I am glad of meeting your honour. Heaven 
 knows, I need such assistance as yours. — Oh, worthy Master 
 Everard ! — Here has been a sounding of trumpets, and a breaking 
 of vials, and a pouring forth, and " 
 
 "Prithee, tell me, in brief, what is the matter— where is thy 
 master — and, in a word, what has happened ? " 
 
 " My master is close by, parading it in the little meadow, beside 
 the hugeous oak, which is called by the name of the late Man ; 
 ride but two steps forward, and you may see him walking swiftly to 
 and fro, advancing all the while the naked weapon.'' 
 
 Upon proceeding as directed, but with as little noise as possible, 
 they descried a man, whom of course they concluded must be 
 Harrison, walking to and fro beneath the King's oak, as a sentinel 
 under arms, but with more wildness of demeanour. The tramp of 
 the horses did not escape his ear ; and they heard him call out, as 
 if at the head of the brigade — " Lower pikes against cavalry ! — 
 Here comes Prince Rupert— Stand fast, and you shall turn them 
 
lye WOODSTOCK. 
 
 aside, as a bull would toss a cur-dog.— Lower your pikes still, my 
 hearts, the end secured against your foot — down on your right 
 knee, front rank — spare not for the spoiling of your blue aprons. — 
 Ha— Zerobabel — ay, that is the word ! " 
 
 " In the name of Heaven, about whom or what is he talking?" 
 said Everard ; " wherefore does he go about with his weapon 
 drawn ? " 
 
 " Truly, sir, when aught disturbs my master General Harrison, 
 he is something rapt in the spirit, and conceives that he is com- 
 manding a reserve of pikes at the great battle of Armageddon — 
 and for his weapon, alack, worthy sir, wherefore should he keep 
 Sheffield steel in calves' leather, when there are fiends to be com- 
 bated — incarnate fiends on earth, and raging infernal fiends under 
 the earth?" 
 
 " This is intolerable," said Everard. " Listen to me, Tomkins. 
 Thou art not now in the pulpit, and I desire none of thy preach- 
 ing language. I know thou canst speak intelligibly when thou 
 art so minded. Remember, I may serve or harm thee ; and as 
 you hope or fear any thing on my part, answer straight-forward 
 — ^What has happened to drive out thy master to the wild wood 
 at this time of night ? " 
 
 " Forsooth, worthy and honoured sir, I will speak with the pre- 
 cision I may. True it is, and of verity, that the breath of man, 
 which is in his nostrils, goeth forth and returneth " 
 
 " Hark you, sir," said Colonel Everard, " take care where you 
 ramble in your correspondence with me. You have heard how 
 at the great battle of Dunbar in Scotland, the General himself 
 held a pistol to the head of Lieutenant Hewcrced, threatening to 
 shoot him through the brain if he did not give up holding forth, 
 and put his squadron in line to the front. Take care, sir." 
 
 " Verily, the lieutenant then charged with an even and unbroken 
 order," said Tomkins, " and bore a thousand plaids and bonnets 
 over the beach before him into the sea. Neither shall I pre- 
 termit or postpone your honour's commands, but speedily obey 
 them, and that without delay." 
 
 " Go to, fellow ; thou knowest what I would have," said 
 Everard ; " speak at once— I know thou canst if thou wilt. Trusty 
 Tomkins is better known than he thinks Tor." 
 
 " Worthy sir," said Tomkins, in a much less periphrastic style,, 
 "I will obey your worship as far as the spirit will permit. Truly, 
 it was not an hour since, when my worshipful master being at 
 table with Master Bibbet and myself, not to mention the worship- 
 ful Master Bletson and Colonel Desborough, and behold there was 
 a violent knocking at the gate, as of one in haste. Now, of a 
 certainty, so much had our household been harassed with witches 
 
WOODSTOCK. 177 
 
 and spirits, and other objects of sound and sight, that the sentinels 
 could not be brought to abide upon their posts without doors, and 
 it was only by provision of beef and strong liquors that we were 
 able to maintain a guard of three men in the hall, who nevertheless 
 ventured not to open the door, lest they should be surprised with 
 some of the goblins wherewith their imaginations were overwhelmed. 
 And they heard the knocking, which increased until it seemed that 
 the door was well-nigh about to be beaten down. Worthy Master 
 Bibbet was a little overcome with liquor, (as is his fashion, good 
 man, about this time of the evening,) not that he is in the leas 
 given to ebriety, but simply, that since the Scottish campaign he 
 hath had a perpetual ague, which obliges him so to nourish his 
 frame against the damps of the night ; wherefore, as it is well 
 known to your honour that I discharged the office of a faithful 
 servant, as well to Major-General Harrison, and the other Com- 
 missioners, as to my just and lawful master, Colonel Des- 
 borough " 
 
 " I know all that. — And now that thou art trusted by both, I 
 pray to Heaven thou mayst merit the trust," said Colonel 
 Everard. 
 
 " And devoutly do I pray," said Tomkins, " that your worship- 
 ful prayers may be answered with favour; for certainly to be, 
 and to be called and entitled. Honest Joe, and Trusty Tomkins, is 
 to me more than ever would be an Earl's title, were such things tp 
 be granted anew in this regenerated government." 
 
 " Well, go on — go on — or if thou dalliest much longer, I wilt 
 make bold to dispute the article of your honesty. I like short 
 tales, sir, and doubt what is told with a long unnecessary train of 
 words." 
 
 "Well, good sir, be not hasty. As I said before, the doors rattled 
 till you would have thought the knocking was reiterated in every 
 room of the Palace. The bell rung out for company, though we 
 could not find that any one tolled the clapper, and the guards let 
 off their firelocks, merely because they knew not what better to do, 
 So, Master Bibbet being, as I said, unsusceptible of his duty, I 
 went down with my poor rapier to the door, and demanded who 
 was there ; and I was answered ii> a voice which, 1 must say, was 
 much like another voice, that it was one wanting Major-General 
 Harrison. So, as it was then late, I answered mildly, that General 
 Harrison was betaking himself to his rest, and that any who 
 wished to speak to him must return on the morrow morning, for 
 that after nightfall the door of the Palace, being in the room of a 
 garrison, would be opened to no one. So the voice replied, and 
 bid me open directly, without which he would blow the folding 
 leaves of the door into the middle of the hall. And therewithal the 
 
 N 
 
178 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 noise recommencedj that we thought the house would have fallen ; 
 and I was in some measure constrained to open the door, even like 
 A besieged garrison which can hold out no longer." 
 
 " By my honour, and it was stoutly done of you, I must say," said 
 Wildrake, who had been listening with much interest. " I am a 
 bold dare-devil enough, yet when I had two inches of oak plank 
 between the actual fiend and me, hang him that would demolish 
 the barrier between us say I — 1 would as soon, when aboard, bore 
 a hole in the ship, and let in the waves ; for you know we always 
 compare the devil to the deep sea." 
 
 " Prithee, peace, Wildrake," said Everard, " and let him go on 
 with his history.— Well, and what saw's! thou when the door was 
 opened?— the great Devil with his horns and claws thou wilt say, 
 no doubt." 
 
 " No, sir, I will say nothing but what is true. When I undid the 
 door, one man stood there, and he, to seeming, a man of no extra- 
 ordinary appearance. He was wrapped in a taffeta cloak, of a 
 scarlet colour, and with a red lining. He seemed as if he might 
 have been in his time a very handsome man, but there was some- 
 thing of paleness and sorrow in his face — a long love-lock and long 
 hair he wore, even after the abomination of the cavaliers, and the 
 unloveliness, as learned Master Prynne well termed it, of love-locks 
 —a jewel in his ear — a blue scarf over his shoulder, like a military 
 commander for the King, and a hat with a white plume, bearing a 
 peculiar hatband." 
 
 " Some unhappy officer of cavaliers, of whom so many are in 
 hiding, and seeking shelter through the country," briefly replied 
 Everard. 
 
 " True, worthy sir — right as a judicious exposition. But there 
 was something about this man (if he was a man) whom I, for one, 
 could not look upon without trembling ; nor the musketeers who 
 were in the hall, without betraying much alarm, and swallowing, as 
 they themselves will aver, the very bullets which they had in their 
 mouths for loading their carabines and muskets. Nay, the wolf 
 and deer-dogs, that are the fiercest of their kind, fled from this 
 visitor, and crept into holes and corners, moaning and wailing in a 
 low and broken tone. He came into the middle of the hall, and 
 still he seemed no more than an ordinary man, only somewhat 
 fantastically dressed, in a doublet of black velvet pinked upon 
 scarlet satin under his cloak, a jewel in his ear, with large roses in 
 his shoes, and a kerchief in his hand, which he sometimes pressed 
 against his left side." 
 
 " Gracious Heaven ! " said Wildrake, coming close up to 
 Everard, and whispering in his ear, with accents which terror 
 rendered tremulous, (a mood of mind most unusual to the daring 
 
WOODSTOCK. 179 
 
 man, who seemed now overcome by it) — " it must have been poor 
 Dick Robison the player, in the very dress in which I have seen 
 him play Philaster — ay, and drunk a jolly bottle with him after it 
 at the Mermaid ! I remember how many frolics we had together, 
 and all his little fantastic fashions. He served for his old master, 
 Charles, in Mohun's troop, and was murdered by this butcher's 
 dog, as I have heard, after surrender, at the battle of Naseby- 
 field." 
 
 " Hush ! I have heard of the deed," said Everard ; " for God's 
 sake hear the man to an end. — Did this visitor speak to thee, my 
 friend ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, in a pleasing tone of voice, but somewhat fanciful in 
 the articulation, and like one who is speaking to an audience as 
 from a bar or a pulpit, more than in the voice of ordinary men on 
 ordinary matters. He desired to see Major-General Harrison." 
 
 " He did ! — and you," said Everard, infected by the spirit of the 
 time, which, as is well known, leaned to credulity upon all matters 
 of supernatural agency, — " what did you do ? " 
 
 " I went up to the parlour, and related that such a person 
 enquired for him. He started when I told him, and eagerly desired 
 to know the man's dress ; but no sooner did I mention his dress, 
 and the jewel in his ear, than he said, ' Begone ! tell him I will not 
 admit him to speech of me. Say that I defy him, and will make 
 my defiance good at the great battle in the valley of Armageddon, 
 when the voice of the angel shall call all fowls which fly under the 
 face of heaven to feed on the flesh of the captain and the soldier, 
 the war-horse and his rider. Say to the Evil One, I have power to 
 appeal our conflict even till that day, and that in the front of that 
 fearful day he will again meet with Harrison.' I went back with 
 this answer to the stranger, and his face was writhed into such a 
 deadly frown as a mere human brow hath seldom worn. ' Return 
 to him,' he said, ' and say it is my hour ; and that if he come not 
 instantly down to speak with me, I will mount the stairs to him. 
 Say that I COMMAND him to descend, by the token, that, on the 
 field of Naseby, he did not the work negligently! " 
 
 " I have heard," whispered Wildrake, — who felt more and more 
 strongly the contagion of superstition, — "that these words were 
 blasphemously used by Harrison when he shot my poor friend 
 Dick." 
 
 " What happened next ? " said Everard. " See that thou speakest 
 the truth ! " 
 
 " As gospel unexpounded by a steeple-man," said the Indepen- 
 dent ; " yet truly it is but little I have to say. I saw my master 
 come down, with a blank, yet resolved air ; and when he entered 
 the hall and saw the stranger, he made a pause. The other waved 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o WOODSTOCK. 
 
 on him as if to follow, and walked out at the portal. My worthy 
 patron seemed as if he were about to follow, yet again paused, 
 when this visitant, be he man or fiend, re-entered, and said, ' Obey 
 thy doom, 
 
 ' By pathless march, by greenwood tree 
 It is thy weird to follow me — 
 To follow me through the ghastly moonlight- 
 To follow me through the shadows of night — ■ 
 To follow me, comrade, still art thou bound : 
 I conjure thee by the unstanched wound — 
 I conjure thee by the last words I spoke, 
 When the body slept and the spirit awoke, 
 In the very last pangs of the deadly stroke ! ' 
 
 So saying, he stalked out, and my master followed him into the 
 wood. — I followed also at a distance. But when I came up, my 
 master was alone, and bearing himself as you now behold him." 
 
 " Thou hast had a wonderful memory, friend," said the Colona, 
 coldly, " to remember these rhymes in a single recitation — there 
 seems something of practice in aU this." 
 
 " A single recitation, my honoured sir .' " exclaimed the Indepen- 
 dent, — " alack, the rhyme is seldom out of my poor master's mouth, 
 when, as sometimes haps, he is less triumphant in his wrestles with 
 Satan. But it was the first time I ever heard it uttered by another ; 
 and, to say truth, he ever seems to repeat it unwillingly, as a child 
 after his pedagogue, and as it was not indited by his own head, as 
 the Psabnist saith." 
 
 " It is singular," said Everard ; — " I have heard and read that 
 the spirits of the slaughtered have strange power over the slayer ; 
 but I am astonished to have it insisted upon that there may be 
 truth in such tales. — Roger Wildrake — what art thou afraid of, 
 man ? — why dost thou shift thy place thus ? " 
 
 " Fear ? it is not fear — it is hate, deadly hate. — I see the murderer 
 of poor Dick before me, and — see, he throws himself into a posture 
 offence — Sa — sa — say'st thou, brood of a butcher's mastiff? thou 
 shalt not want an antagonist." 
 
 Ere any one could stop him, Wildrake threw aside his cloak, 
 drew his sword, and almost with a single bound cleared the distance 
 betwixt him and Harrison, and crossed swords with the latter, as 
 he stood brandishing his weapon, as if in immediate expectation of 
 an assailant. Accordingly, the Republican General was not for an 
 instant taken at unawares, but the moment the swords clashed, he 
 shouted, " Ha ! I feel thee now, thou hast come in body at last. — 
 "Welcome ! welcome !— the sword of the Lord and of Gideon ! " 
 
WOODSTOCK. i8i 
 
 " Part them, part them," cried Everard, as he and Tomkins, at 
 first astonished at the suddenness of the affray, hastened to interfere. 
 Everard, seizing on the cavalier, drew him forcibly backwards, and 
 Tomkins contrived, with risk and difficulty, to master Harrison's 
 sword, while the General exclaimed, " Ha ! two to one— two to 
 one ! — thus fight demons." Wildrake, on his side, swore a dreadful 
 oath, and added, " Markham, you have cancelled every obligation 
 I owed you — they are all out of sight — gone, d — n me ! " 
 
 "You have indeed acquitted these obligations rarely," said 
 Everard. " Who knows how this affair shall be explained and 
 answered ? " 
 
 " I will answer it with my life," said Wildrake. 
 
 " Good now, be silent," said Tomkins, " and let me manage. It 
 shall be so ordered that the good General shall never know that 
 he hath encountered with a mortal man ; only let that man of 
 Moab put his sword into the scabbard's rest, and be still." 
 
 "Wildrake, let me entreat thee to sheathe thy sword," said 
 Everard, " else, on my life, thou must turn it against me." 
 
 " No, 'fore George, not so mad as that neither, but I'll havj 
 another day with him." 
 
 " Thou, another day !" exclaimed Harrison, whose eye had still 
 remained fixed on the spot where he found such palpable resistance. 
 " Yes, I know thee well ; day by day, week by week, thou makest 
 the same idle request, for thou knowest that my heart quivers at 
 thy voice. — But my hand trembles not when opposed to thine — the 
 spirit is willing to the combat, if the flesh be weak when opposed to 
 that which is not of the flesh." 
 
 " Now, peace all, for Heaven's sake," — said the steward Tom- 
 kins ; then added, addressing his master, " there is no one here, if 
 it please your Excellence, but Tomkins and the worthy Colonel 
 Everard." 
 
 General Harrison, as sometimes happens in cases of partial 
 insanity, (that is, supposing his to have been a case of mental 
 delusion,) though firmly and entirely persuaded of the truth of his 
 own visions, yet was not willing to speak on the subject to those 
 who, he knew, would regard them as imaginary. Upon this occa- 
 sion, he assumed the appearance of perfect ease and composure, 
 after the violent agitation he had just manifested, in a manner 
 which showed how anxious_ he was to disguise his real feelings 
 from Everard, whom he considered as unlikely to participate 
 them. 
 
 He saluted the Colonel with profound ceremony, and talked of 
 the fineness of the evening, which had summoned him forth of the 
 Lodge, to take a turn in the Park, and enjoy the favourable weather. 
 He then took Everard by the arm, and walked back with him 
 
iSi WOODSTOCK. 
 
 towards the Lodge, Wildrake and Tomkins following close behind 
 and leading the horses. Everard, desirous to gain some light on 
 these mysterious incidents, endeavoured to come on the subject 
 more than once, by a mode of interrogation, which Harrison (for 
 madmen are very often unwilling to enter on the subject of their 
 mental delusion) parried with some skill, or addressed himself for 
 aid to his steward Tomkins, who was in the habit of being voucher 
 for his master upon all occasions, which led to Desborough's in- 
 genious nickname of Fibbet. 
 
 "And wherefore had you your sword drawn, my worthy 
 General," said Everard, " when you were only on an evening walk 
 of pleasure ? " 
 
 " Truly, excellent Colonel, these are times when men must watch 
 with their loins girded, and their lights burning, and their weapons 
 drawn. The day draweth nigh, believe me or not as you will, that 
 men must watch lest they be found naked and unarmed, when the 
 seven trumpets shall sound. Boot and saddle ; and the pipes of 
 Jezer shall strike up, Horse and away." 
 
 " True, good General ; but methought I saw you making passes 
 even now as if you were fighting ? " said Everard. 
 
 " I am of a strange fantasy, friend Everard," answered Harrison; 
 " and when I walk alone, and happen, as but now, to have my 
 weapon drawn, I sometimes, for exercise' sake, will practise a thrust 
 against such a tree as that. It is a silly pride men have in the use 
 of weapons. I have been accounted a master of fence, and have 
 fought prizes when I was unregenerated, and before I was called 
 to do my part in the great work, entering as a trooper into our 
 victorious General's first regiment of horse." 
 
 " But methought," said Everard, " I heard a weapon clash with 
 yours ? " 
 
 "How? a weapon clash with my sword?— How could that be, 
 Tomkins?" 
 
 " Truly, sir," said Tomkins, " it must have been a bough of the 
 tree ; they have them of all kinds here, and your honour may have 
 pushed against one of them, which the Brazilians call iron-wood, a 
 block of which, being struck with a hammer, saith Purchas in his 
 Pilgrimage, ringeth like an anvil." 
 
 " Truly, it may be so," said Harrison ; " for those rulers who are 
 gone, assembled in this their abode of pleasure many strange trees 
 and plants, though they gathered not of the fruit of that tree which 
 beareth twelve manner of fruits, or of those leaves which are for 
 the healing of the nations." 
 
 Everard pursued his investigation ; for he was struck with the 
 manner in which Harrison evaded his questions, and the dexterity 
 with which he threw his transcendental and fanatical notions, -like 
 
WOODSTOCK. 183 
 
 a sort of veil, over the darker visions excited by remorse and 
 conscious guilt. 
 
 " But," said he, " if I may trust my eyes and ears, I can- 
 not but still think that you had a real antagonist — Nay, I am 
 sure I saw a fellow, in a dark-coloured jerkin, retreat through the 
 wood." 
 
 " Did you ? " said Harrison, with a tone of surprise, while his 
 voice faltered in spite of him— "Who could he be? — Tomkins, did 
 you see the fellow Colonel Everard talks of with the napkin 
 in his hand — the bloody napkin which he always pressed to his 
 side?" 
 
 This last expression, in which Harrison gave a mark different 
 from that which Everard had assigned, but corresponding to 
 Tomkins's original description of the supposed spectre, had more 
 effect on Everard in confirming the steward's story, than any thing 
 he had witnessed or heard. The voucher answered the draft upon 
 him as promptly as usual, that he had seen such a fellow glide past 
 them into the thicket — that he dared to say he was some deer- 
 stealer, for he had heard they were become very audacious. 
 
 " Look ye there now. Master Everard," said Harrison, hurrying 
 from the subject — " Is it not time now that we should lay aside our 
 controversies, and join hand in hand to repairing the breaches of 
 our Zion ? Happy and contented were I, my excellent friend, to 
 be a treader of mortar, or a bearer of a hod, upon this occasion, 
 under our great leader, with whom Providence has gone forth in 
 this great national controversy ; and truly, so devoutly do I hold 
 by our excellent and victorious General Oliver, whom Heaven long 
 preserve — that were he to command me, I should not scruple to 
 pluck forth of his high place the man whom they call Speaker, 
 even as I lent a poor hasd to pluck down the man whom they called 
 King. — Wherefore, as I know your judgment holdeth with mine on 
 this matter, let me urge unto you lovingly, that we may act as 
 brethren, and build up the breaches, and re-establish the bulwarks 
 of our English Zion, whereby we shall be doubtless chosen as 
 pillars and buttresses, under our excellent Lord General, for 
 supporting and sustaining the same, and endowed with proper 
 revenues and incomes, both spiritual and temporal, to serve as a 
 pedestal, on which we may stand, seeing that otherwise our founda- 
 tion will be on the loose sand. — Nevertheless," continued he, his 
 mind again diverging from his views of temporal ambition into his 
 visions of the Fifth Monarchy, " these things are but vanity in 
 respect of the opening of the book which is sealed ; for all things 
 approach speedily towards lightning and thundering, and unloosing 
 of the great dragon from the bottomless pit, wherein he is. 
 chained." 
 
i«4 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 With this mingled strain of earthly politics, and fanatical predic- 
 tion, Harrison so overpowered Colonel Everard, as to leave him no 
 time to urge him farther on the particular circumstances of his 
 nocturnal skirmish, concerning which it is plain he had no desire 
 to be interrogated. They now reached the Lodge of Wood- 
 stock. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Now the wasted brands do glow, 
 
 While the screech-owl, sounding loud, 
 Puts the wretch that lies in woe. 
 
 In remembrance of a shroud. 
 Now it is the time of night 
 
 That the graves, all gaping wide, 
 Every one lets out its sprite. 
 
 In the church-way paths to glide. 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 Before the gate of the palace the guards were now doubled. 
 Everard demanded the reason of this from the corporal, whom he 
 found in the hall with his soldiers, sitting or sleeping around a 
 great fire, maintained at the expense of the carved chairs and 
 benches, with fragments of which it was furnished. 
 . " Why, verily," answered the man, " the corps-de-garde, zs your 
 worship says, will be harassed to pieces by such duty ; neverthe- 
 less, fear hath gone abroad among us, and no man will mount 
 guard alone. We have drawn in, however, one or two of our out- 
 posts from Banbury and elsewhere, and we are to have a relief 
 from Oxford to-morrow." 
 
 Everard continued minute enquiries concerning the sentinels 
 that were posted within as well as without the Lodge ; and found 
 that, as they had been stationed under the eye of Harrison himself, 
 the rules of prudent discipline had been exactly observed in the 
 distribution of the posts. There remained nothing therefore for 
 Colonel Everard to do, but, remembering his own adventure of the 
 evening, to recommend that an additional sentinel should be placed, 
 with a companion, if judged indispensable, in that vestibule, or 
 anteroom, from which the long gallery where he had met with the 
 rencontre, and other suites of apartments, diverged. The corporal 
 respectfully promised all obedience to his orders. The serving- 
 men being called, appeared also in double force. Everard demanded 
 to know whether the Commissioners had gone to bed, or whether 
 he could get speech with them ? 
 
 • "They are in their bedroom, forsooth," replied one of the fellows ; 
 " but I think they be not yet undressed." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 185 
 
 " What ! " said Everard, " are Colonel DesboTOugh and Master 
 Bletson both in the same sleeping apartment ? " 
 
 " Their honours have so chosen it," said the man ; " and their 
 honours' secretaries remain upon guard all night.'' 
 
 " It is the fashion to double guards all over the house," said 
 Wildrake. " Had I a glimpse of a tolerably good-looking house- 
 maid now, I should know how to fall into the fashion." 
 
 " Peace, fool ! " said Everard — " and where are the Mayor and 
 Master Holdenough ? " 
 
 " The Mayor is returned to the borough on horseback, behind 
 the trooper who goes to Oxford for the reinforcement ; and the 
 man of the steeplehouse hath quartered himself in the chamber 
 which Colonel Desborough had last night, being that in which he 
 
 is most likely to meet the your honour understands. The 
 
 Lord pity us, we are a harassed family ! " 
 
 "And where be General Harrison's knaves," said Tomkins, 
 " that they do not marshal him to his apartment ? " 
 
 " Here — here— here, Master Tomkins," said three fellows, press- 
 ing forward, with the same consternation on their faces which 
 seemed to pervade the whole inhabitants of Woodstock. 
 
 "Away with you, then," said Tomkins; — "speak not to his 
 worship — you see he is not in the humour." 
 
 " Indeed," observed Colonel Everard, " he looks singularly wan 
 — ^his features seem writhen as by a palsy stroke ; and though he 
 was talking so fast while we came along, he hath not opened his 
 mouth since we came to the light." 
 
 " It is his manner after such visitations," said Tomkins. — " Give 
 his honour your arms, Zedekiah and Jonathan, to lead him off— I 
 will follow instantly. — You, Nicodemus, tarry to wait upon me — it 
 is not well walking alone in this mansion." 
 
 " Master Tomkins," said Everard, " I have heard of you often 
 as a sharp, intelligent man — tell me fairly, are you in earnest 
 afraid of any thing supernatural haunting this house ? " 
 
 " I would be loath to run the chance, sir," said Tomkins very 
 gravely ; " by looking on my worshipful master, you may form a 
 guess how the living look after they have spoken with the dead." 
 He bowed low, and took his leave. Everard proceeded to the 
 chamber which the two remaining Commissioners had, for comfort's 
 sake, chosen to inhabit in company. They were preparing for bed 
 as he went into their apartment. Both started as the door 
 opened, both rejoiced when then they saw it was only Everard 
 who entered. 
 
 " Hark ye hither," said Bletson, pulling him a,side, " sawest thou 
 ever ass equal to Desborough ? — the fellow is as big as an ox, and 
 as timorous as a sheep. He has insisted on my sleeping here, to 
 
i8S WOODSTOCK. 
 
 protect him. Shall we have a merry night on't, ha ? We will, if 
 thou wilt take the third bed, which was prepared for Harrison ; 
 but he is gone out, like a mooncalf, to look for the valley of Arma- 
 geddon in the Park of Woodstock." 
 
 " General Harrison has returned with me but now," said 
 Everard. 
 
 " Nay but, as I shall live, he comes not into our apartment," 
 said Desborough, overhearing his answer. " No man that has 
 been supping, for aught I know, with the Devil, has a right to 
 sleep among Christian folk." 
 
 " He does not propose so," said Everard ; "he sleeps, as I under- 
 stand, apart — and alone." 
 
 " Not quite alone, I dare say," said Desborough ; " for Harrison 
 hath a sort of attraction for goblins — they fly round him like moths 
 about a candle : But, I prithee, good Everard, do thou stay with 
 us. I know not how it is, but although thou hast not thy religion 
 always in thy mouth, nor speakest many hard words about it, like 
 Harrison — ^nor makest long preachments, like a certain most hon- 
 ourable relation of mine who shall be nameless, yet somehow I 
 feel myself safer in thy company than with any of them. As for 
 this Bletson, he is such a mere blasphemer, that I fear the Devil 
 will carry him away ere morning." 
 
 " Did you ever hear such a paltry coward ? " said Bletson, apart 
 to Everard. " Do tarry, however, mine honoured Colonel — I know 
 your zeal to assist the distressed, and you see Desborough is in 
 that predicament, that he will require near him more than one 
 good example to prevent him thinking of ghosts and fiends." 
 
 " I am sorry I cannot oblige you, gentlemen," said Everard ; 
 " but I have settled my mind to sleep in Victor Lee's apartment, 
 so I wish you good-night ; and, if you would repose without 
 disturbance, I would advise that you commend yourselves, during^ 
 the watches of the night, to Him unto whom night is even as 
 mid-day. I had intended to have spoke with you this evening on 
 the subject of my being here ; but I will defer the conference till 
 to-morrow, when, I think, I will be able to show you excellent 
 reasons for leaving Woodstock." 
 
 " We have seen plenty such already," said Desborough ; " for 
 one, I came here to serve the estate, with some moderate advan^. 
 tage doubtless to myself for my trouble ; but if I am set upon my 
 head again to-night, as I was the night before, I would not stay 
 longer to gain a king's crown ; for I am sure my neck would be 
 unfitted to bear the weight of it." 
 
 " Good-night," exclaimed Everard ; and was about to go, when 
 Bletson again pressed close, and whispered to him, " Hark thee, 
 Colonel — you know my friendship for thee — I do implore thee to 
 
WOODSTOCK. t87 
 
 leave the door of thy apartment open, that if thou meetest with 
 any disturbance, I may hear thee call, and be with thee upon the 
 very instant. Do this, dear Everard, my fears for thee will keep 
 me awake else ; for I know that, notwithstanding your excellent 
 sense, you entertain some of those superstitious ideas which we 
 suck in with our motlier's milk, and which constitute the ground of 
 our fears in situations like the present ; therefore leave thy door 
 open, if you love me, that you may have ready assistance from me 
 in case of need." 
 
 " My master," said Wildrake, " trusts, first, in his Bible, sir, and 
 then in his good sword. He has no idea that the Devil can be 
 baffled by the charm of two men lying in one room, still less that 
 the foul fiend can be argued out of existence by the NuUifidians of 
 the Rota." 
 
 Everard seized his imprudent friend by the collar, and dragged 
 him off as he was speaking, keeping fast hold of him till they were 
 both in the chamber of Victor Lee, where they had slept on a 
 former occasion. Even then he continued to hold Wildrake, until 
 the servant had arranged the lights, and was dismissed from the 
 room ; then letting him go, addressed him with the upbraiding 
 question, " Art thou not a prudent and sagacious person, who in 
 times like these seek'st every opportunity to argue yourself into a 
 broil, or embroil yourself in an argument ? Out on you ! " 
 
 ' Ay, out on me, indeed," said the cavalier ; " out on me for a 
 poor tame-spirited creature, that submits to be bandied about in 
 this manner, by a man who is neither better born nor better bred 
 than myself. I tell thee, Mark, you make an unfair use of your 
 advantages over me. Why will you not let me go from you, and 
 live and die after my own fashion ? " 
 
 " Because, before we had been a week separate, I should hear of 
 your dying after the fashion of a dog. Come, my good friend, 
 what madness was it in thee to fall foul on Harrison, and then to 
 enter into useless argument with Bletson ? " 
 
 " Why, we are in the Devil's house, I think, and I would willingly 
 give the landlord his due wherever I travel. To have sent him 
 Harrison, or Bletson now, just as a lunch to stop his appetite, till 
 Crom " 
 
 " Hush ! stone walls have ears," said Everard, looking around 
 him. " Here stands thy night-drink. Look to thy arms, for we 
 must be as careful as if the Avenger of Blood were behind us. 
 Yonder is thy bed — and I, as thou seest, have one prepared in the 
 parlour. The door only divides us." 
 
 "Which I will leave open, in case thou shouldst holla for 
 assistance, as yonder NuUifidian hath it. — But how hast thou got 
 all this so well put in order, good patron ? " 
 
i88 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " I gave the steward Tomkins notice of my purpose to sleep here.'' 
 
 "A strange fellow that," said Wildrake, "and, as I judge, has 
 taken measure of every one's foot — all seems to pass through his 
 hands." 
 
 " He is, I have understood," replied Everard, " one of the men 
 formed by the times — has a ready gift of preaching and expound- 
 ing, which keeps him in high terms with the Independents ; and 
 recommends himself to the more moderate people by his intelligence 
 and activity." 
 
 " Has his sincerity ever been doubted ? " said Wildrake. 
 
 " Never, that I heard of," said the Colonel ; " on the contrary, 
 he has been familiarly called Honest Joe, and Trusty Tomkins. 
 For my part, I believe his sincerity has always kept pace with his 
 interest. — But come, finish thy cup, and to bed. — ^What, all emptied 
 at one draught ! " 
 
 " Adzookers, yes — my vow forbids me to make two on't ; but, 
 never fear— the nightcap will only warm my brain, not clog it. So, 
 man or devil, give me notice if you are disturbed, and rely on me 
 in a twinkling." So saying, the cavalier retreated into his separate 
 apartment, and Colonel Everard, taking off the most cumbrous 
 part of his dress, lay down in his hose and doublet, and composed 
 himself to rest. 
 
 He was awakened from sleep by a slow and solemn strain of 
 music, which died away as at a distance. He started up, and felt 
 for his arms, which he found close beside him. His temporary 
 bed being without curtains, he could look around him without 
 difficulty ; but as there remained in the chimney only a few red 
 embers of the fire, which he had arranged before he went to sleep, 
 it was impossible he could discern any thing. He felt, therefore, 
 in spite of his natural courage, that undefined and thrilling species 
 of tremor which attends a sense that danger is near, and an uncer- 
 tainty concerning its cause and character. Reluctant as he was to 
 yield belief to supernatural occurrences, we have already said he was 
 not absolutely incredulous ; as perhaps, even in this more sceptical 
 age, there are many fewer complete and absolute infidels on this 
 particular than give themselves out for such. Uncertain whether 
 he had not dreamed of these sounds which seemed yet in his ears, 
 he was unwilling to risk the raillery of his friend by summoning 
 him to his assistance. He sat up, therefore, in his bed, not with- 
 out experiencing that nervous agitation to which brave men as 
 well as cowards are subject ; with this difference, that the one 
 sinks under it, like the vine under the hail-storm, and the other 
 collects his energies to shake it off, as the cedar of Lebanon is said 
 to elevate its boughs to disperse the snow which accumulates upon 
 them. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 189 
 
 The story of Harrison, in his own absolute despite, and notwith- 
 standing a secret suspicion which he had of trick or connivance, 
 returned on his mind at this dead and solitary hour. Harrison, he 
 remembered, had described the vision by a circumstance of its 
 appearance different from that which his own remark had been 
 calculated to suggest to the mind of the visionary; — that bloody 
 napkin, always pressed to the side, was then a circumstance 
 present' either to his bodily eye, or to that of his agitated imagina- 
 tion. Did, then, the murdered revisit the living haunts of those 
 who had forced them from the stage with all their sins unaccounted 
 for ? And if they did, might not the same permission authorize 
 other visitations of a similar nature, to warn — to instruct — to 
 punish? Rash are they, was his conclusion, and credulous, who 
 receive as truth every tale of the kind j but no less rash may it 
 be, to limit the power of the Creator over the works which he has 
 made, and to suppose that, by the permission of the Author of 
 Nature, the laws of Nature may not, in peculiar cases, and for 
 high purposes, be temporarily suspended. 
 
 While these thoughts passed through Everard's mind, feelings 
 unknown to him, even when he stood first on the rough and 
 perilous edge of battle, gained ground upon him. He feared he 
 knew not what ; and where an open and discernible peril would 
 have drawn out his courage, the absolute uncertainty of his situa- 
 tion increased his sense of the danger. He felt an almost irre- 
 sistible desire to spring from his bed and heap fuel on the dying 
 embers, expecting by the blaze to see some strange sight in his 
 chamber. He was also strongly tempted to awaken Wildrake ; 
 but shame, stronger than fear itself, checked these impulses. 
 What ! should it be thought that Markham Everard, held one of 
 the best soldiers who had drawn a sword in this sad war — Mark- 
 ham Everard, who had obtained such distinguished rank in the 
 army of the Parliament, though so young in years, was afraid of 
 remaining by himself in a twilight-room at midnight? — It never 
 should be said. 
 
 This was, however, no charm for his unpleasant current of 
 thought. There rushed on his mind the various traditions of 
 Victor Lee's chamber, which, though he had often despised them 
 as vague, unauthenticated, and inconsistent rumours, engendered 
 by ancient superstition, and transmitted from generation to genera- 
 tion by loquacious credulity, had yet something in them, which did 
 not tend to allay the present unpleasant state of his nerves. Then, 
 when he recollected the events of that very afternoon, the weapon 
 pressed against his throat, and the strong arm which threw him 
 backward on the floor — if the remembrance served to contradict 
 the idea of fiitting phantoms, and unreal daggers, it certainly 
 
igo WOODSTOCK. 
 
 induced him to believe, that there was in some part of this exten- 
 sive mansion a party of cavaliers, or malignants, harboured, who 
 might arise in the night, overpower the guards, and execute upon 
 them all, but on Harrison in particular, as one of the regicide 
 judges, that vengeance, which was so eagerly thirsted for by the 
 attached followers of the slaughtered monarch. 
 
 He endeavoured to console himself on this subject, by the 
 number and position of the guards, yet still was dissatisfied with 
 himself for not having taken yet more exact, precautions, and for 
 keeping an extorted promise of silence, which might consign so 
 many of his party to the danger of assassination. These thoughts, 
 connected with his military duties, awakened another train of re- 
 flections. He bethought himself, that all he could now do, was to 
 visit the sentries, and ascertain that they were awake, alert, on the 
 watch, and so situated, that in time of need they might be ready to 
 support each other. — "This better befits me," he thought, "than 
 to be here like a child, frightening myself with the old woman's 
 legend, which I have laughed at when a boy. What although old 
 Victor Lee was a sacrilegious man, as common report goes, and 
 brewed ale in the font which he brought from the ancient palace of 
 Holyrood, while church and building were in flames ? And what 
 although his eldest son was when a child scalded to death in the 
 same vessel ? How many churches have been demolished since 
 his time ? How many fonts desecrated ? So many indeed, that 
 were the vengeance of Heaven to visit such aggressions in a super- 
 natural manner, no corner in England, no, not the most petty 
 parish church, but would have its apparition. — Tush, these are 
 idle fancies, unworthy, especially, to be entertained by those 
 educated to believe that sanctity resides in the intention and the 
 act, not in the buildings or fonts, or the form of worship." 
 
 As thus he called together the articles of his Calvinistic creed, 
 the bell of the great clock (a token seldom silent in such narra- 
 tives) tolled three, and was immediately followed by the hoarse 
 call of the sentinels through vault and gallery, up stairs and 
 beneath, challenging and answering each other with the usual 
 watchword. All's well. Their voices mingled with the deep boom 
 of the bell, yet ceased before that was silent, and when they had 
 died away, the tingling echo of the prolonged knell was scarcely 
 audible. Ere yet that last distant tingling had finally subsided 
 into silence, it seemed as if it again was awakened ; and Everard 
 could hardly judge at first whether a new echo had taken up the 
 falling cadence, or whether some other and separate sound was 
 disturbing anew the silence to which the deep knell had, as 
 its voice ceased, consigned the ancient mansion and the woods 
 around it. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 191 
 
 But the doubt was soon cleared up. The musical tones, which 
 had mingled with the dying echoes of the knell, seemed at first to 
 prolong, and afterwards to survive them. A wild strain of melody, 
 beginning at a distance, and growing louder as it advanced, seemed 
 to pass from room to room, from cabinet to gallery, from hall to 
 bower, through the deserted and dishonoured ruins of the ancient 
 residence of so many sovereigns ; and, as it approached, no soldier 
 gave alarm, nor did any of the numerous guests of various degrees, 
 who spent an unpleasant and terrified night in that ancient 
 mansion, seem to dare to announce to each other the inexphcable 
 cause of apprehension. 
 
 Everard's excited state of mind did not permit him to be so pas- 
 sive. The sounds approached so nigh, that it seemed they were 
 performing, in the very next apartment, a solemn service for the 
 dead, when he gave the alarm, by calling loudly to his trusty 
 attendant and friend Wildrake, who slumbered in the next chartiber 
 with only a door betwixt them, and even that ajar. 
 
 " Wildrake — Wildrake ! — Up — up ! Dost thou not hear the 
 alarm?" 
 
 There was no answer from Wildrake, though the musical sounds, 
 which now rung through the apartment, as if the performers had 
 actually been within its precincts, would have been sufficient to 
 awaken a sleeping person, even without the shout of his comrade 
 and patron. 
 
 " Alarm ! — Roger Wildrake — alarm ! " again called Everard, 
 getting out of bed and grasping his weapons—" Get a light, and 
 cry alarm ! " 
 
 There was no answer. His voice died away as the sound of 
 the music seemed also to die ; and the same soft sweet voice, 
 which stiU to his thinking resembled that of Alice Lee, was heard 
 in his apartment, and, as he thought, at no distance from him. 
 
 " Your comrade will not answer," said the low soft voice. 
 " Those only hear the alarm whose consciences feel the 
 call:" 
 
 " Again this mummery ! " said Everard. " I am better armed 
 than I was of late ; and but for the sound of that voice, the speaker 
 had bought his trifling dear." 
 
 It was singular, we may observe in passing, that the instant the 
 distinct sounds of the human voice were heard by Everard, all idea 
 of supernatural interference was at an end, and the charm by 
 which he had been formerly fettered appeared to be broken ; so 
 much is the influence of imaginary or superstitious terror de- 
 pendent (so far as respects strong judgments at least) upon what is 
 vague or ambiguous ; and so readily do distinct tones, and express 
 ideas, bring such judgments back to the current of ordinary life. 
 
iga WOODSTOCK. 
 
 The voice returned answer, as addressing his thoughts as well as 
 his words. 
 
 " We laugh at the weapons thou thinkest should terrify us — 
 Over the guardians of Woodstock they have no power. Fire, if 
 thou wilt, and try the effect of thy weapons. But know, it is not 
 our purpose to harm thee — thou art of a falcon breed, and noble in 
 thy disposition, though, unreclaimed and ill nurtured, thou hauntest 
 with kites and carrion crows. Wing thy flight from hence on the 
 morrow, for if thou tarriest with the bats, owls, vultures, and ravens, 
 which have thought to nestle here, thou wilt inevitably share their 
 fate. Away then, that these halls may be swept and garnished for 
 the reception of those who have a better right to inhabit them." 
 
 Everard answered in a raised voice. — " Once more I warn you, 
 think not to defy me in vain. I am no child to be frightened by 
 goblins' tales ; and no coward, armed as I am, to be alarmed at 
 the threats of banditti. If I give you a moment's indulgence, it is 
 for the sake of dear and misguided friends, who may be concerned 
 with this dangerous gambol. Know, I can bring a troop of soldiers 
 round the castle, who will search its most inward recesses for the 
 author of this audacious frolic ; and if that search should fail, it 
 will cost but a few barrels of gunpowder to make the mansion a 
 heap of ruins, and bury under them the authors of such an ill- 
 judged pastime." 
 
 " You speak proudly. Sir Colonel," said another voice, similar to 
 that harsher and stronger tone by which he had been addressed 
 in the gallery ; " try your courage in this direction." 
 
 " You should not dare me twice," said Colonel Everard, " had I 
 a glimpse of light to take aim by." 
 
 As he spoke, a sudden gleam of light was thrown with a bril- 
 liancy which almost dazzled the speaker, showing distinctly a form 
 somewhat resembling that of Victor Lee, as represented in his 
 picture, holding in one hand a lady completely veiled, and in the 
 othe^ his leading-staff, or truncheon. Both figures were animated, 
 and, as it appeared, standing within six feet of him. 
 
 " Were it not for the woman," said Everard, " I would not be 
 thus mortally dared." 
 
 " Spare not for the female form, but do your worst," replied the 
 same voice, " I defy you." 
 
 "Repeat your defiance when I have counted thrice," said 
 Everard, " and take the punishmeirt of your insolence. Once— I 
 have cocked my pistol— Twice— I never missed my aim— By all 
 that is sacred, I fixe if you do not withdraw. When I pronounce 
 the next number, I will shoot you dead where you stand. I am 
 yet unwilling to shed blood— I give you another chance of flight- 
 once— twice— thrice ! " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 193 
 
 Everard aimed at the bosom, and discharged his pistol. The 
 figure waved its arm in an attitude of scorn ; and a loud laugh 
 arose, during which the light, as gradually growing weaker, danced 
 and glimmered upon the apparition of the aged knight, and then 
 disappeared. Everard's life-blood ran cold to his heart — " Had he 
 been of human mould," he thought, " the bullet must have pierced 
 him— but I have neither will nor power to fight with supernatural 
 beings." 
 
 The feeling of oppression was now so strong as to be actually 
 sickening. He groped his way, however, to the fireside, and flung 
 on the embers which were yet gleaming, a handful of dry fuel. It 
 presently blazed, and afforded him light to see the room in every 
 direction. He looked cautiously, almost timidly, around, and half 
 expected some horrible phantom to become visible. But he saw 
 nothing save the old furniture, the reading-desk, and other articles, 
 which had been left in the same state as when Sir Henry Lee 
 departed. He felt an uncontrollable desire, mingled with much 
 repugnance, to look at the portrait of the ancient knight, which the 
 form he had seen so strongly resembled. He hesitated betwixt the 
 opposing feelings, but at length snatched, with desperate resolution, 
 the taper which he had extinguished, and relighted it, ere the blaze 
 of the fuel had again died away. He held it up to the ancient por- 
 trait of Victor Lee, and gazed on it with eager curiosity, not unmingled 
 with fear. Almost the childish terrors of his earlier days returned, 
 and he thought the severe pale eye of the ancient warrior followed 
 his, and menaced him with its displeasure. And although he 
 quickly argued himself out of such an absurd belief, yet the mixed 
 feelings of his mind were expressed in words that seemed half 
 addressed to the ancient portrait. 
 
 " Soul of my mother's ancestor," he said, " be it for weal or for 
 woe, by designing men, or by supernatural beings, that these 
 ancient halls are disturbed, I am resolved to leave them on the 
 morrow." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it, with all my soul," said a voice behind him. 
 
 He turned, saw a tall figure in white, with a sort of turban upon 
 its head, and dropping the candle in the exertion, instantly grappled 
 with it. 
 
 " Thou at least are palpable," he said. 
 
 ^'Palpable?" answered he whom he grasped so strongly— 
 " 'Sdeath, methinks you might know that without the risk of choking 
 me ; and if you loose me not, I'll show you that two can play at ths 
 game of wrestling." 
 
 " Roger Wildrake !" said Everard, letting the cavalier loose, and 
 stepping back. 
 
 " Roger Wildrake ? ay, truly. Did you take me for Roger Bacon, 
 
 O 
 
t§4 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 come to help you to raise the devil?— for the place smells of sulphur 
 consumedly." 
 
 " It is the pistol I fired — Did you not hear it ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, it was the first thing waked me — for that nightcap 
 which I pulled on, made me sleep like a dormouse — Pshaw, I feel 
 my brains giddy with it yet." 
 
 " And wherefore cajne you not on the instant ? — I never needed 
 help more." 
 
 " I came as fast as I could," answered Wildrake ; " but it was 
 some time ere I got my senses collected, for I was dreaming of that 
 cursed field at Naseby — and then the door of my room was shut, 
 and hard to open, till I played the locksmith with my foot." 
 
 " How ! it was open when I went to bed," said Everard. 
 
 " It was locked when I came out of bed, though," said Wildrake, 
 " and I marvel you heard me not when I forced it open." 
 
 " My mind was occupied otherwise," said Everard. 
 
 " Well," said Wildrake, " but what has happened ? — Here am I 
 bolt upright, and ready to fight, if this yawning fit will give me 
 leave — Mother Redcap's mightiest is weaker than I drank last night, 
 by a bushel to a barleycorn — I have quaffed the very elixir of malt — 
 Ha — yaw." 
 
 " And some opiate besides, I should think," said Everard. 
 
 " Very like — very like — less than the pistol-shot would not waken 
 me ; even me, who with but an ordinary grace-cup sleep as lightly 
 as a maiden on the first of May, when she watches for the earliest 
 beam to go to gather dew. But what are you about to do next ?" 
 
 " Nothing," answered Everard, 
 
 " Nothing ?" said Wildrake, in surprise. 
 
 " I speak it," said Colonel Everard, " less for your information, 
 than for that of others who may hear me, that I will leave the Lodge 
 this morning, and, if it is possible, remove the Commissioners." 
 
 " Hark," said Wildrake, " do you not hear some noise, like the 
 distant sound of the applause of a theatre ? The goblins of the 
 place rejoice in your departure." 
 
 " I shall leave Woodstock," said Everard, " to the occupation of 
 my uncle Sir Henry Lee, and his family, if they choose to resume 
 it ; not that I am frightened into this as a concession to the series 
 of artifices which have been played off on this occasion, but solely 
 because such was my intention from the beginning. But let me 
 warn," (he added, raising his voice,) — " let me warn the parties con- 
 cerned in this combination, that though it may pass off successfully 
 on a fool like Desborough, a visionary like Harrison, a coward like 
 Bletson " 
 
 Here a voice distinctly spoke, as standing near them — " Or a 
 wise, moderate, and resolute person, like Colonel Everard." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 195 
 
 " By Heaven, the voice came from the picture," said Wildrake, 
 drawing his sword ; " I will pinlj his plated armour for him." 
 
 " Offer no violence," said Everard, startled at the interruption, 
 but resuming with firmness what he was saying, — " Let those 
 engaged be aware, that however this string of artifices may be imme- 
 diately successful, it must, when closely looked into, be attended 
 with the punishment of all concerned — the total demolition of 
 Woodstock, and the irremediable downfall of the family 'of Lee. 
 Let all concerned think of this, and desist in time." 
 
 He paused, and almost expected a reply, but none such came. 
 
 " It is a very odd thing," said Wildrake ; " but — yaw-ha — my 
 brain cannot compass it just now ; it whirls round hke a toast in a 
 bowl of muscadine ; I must sit down — ha-yaw — and discuss it at 
 leisure— Gramercy, good elbowchair." 
 
 So saying, he threw himself, or rather sank gradually down, on a 
 large easy-chair, which had been often pressed by the weight of 
 Stout Sir Henry Lee, and in an instant was sound asleep. Everard 
 was far from feeling the same inclination for slumber, yet his mind 
 was relieved of the apprehension of any farther visitation that night ; 
 for he considered his treaty to evacuate Woodstock, as made known 
 to, and accepted in all probability by, those whom the intrusion of 
 the Commissioners had induced to take such singular measures for 
 expelling them. His opinion, which had for a time bent towards a 
 belief in something supernatural in the disturbances, had now re- 
 turned to the more rational mode of accounting for them, by 
 dexterous combination, for which such a mansion as Woodstock 
 afforded so many facilities. 
 
 He heaped the hearth with fuel, lighted the candle, and, 
 examining poor Wildrake's situation, adjusted him as easily in the 
 chair as he could, the cavalier stirring his limbs no more than an 
 infant. His situation went far, in his patron's opinion, to infer trick 
 and confederacy, for ghosts have no occasion to drug men's possets. 
 He threw himself on the bed, and while he thought these strange 
 circumstances over, a sweet and low strain of music stole through 
 the chamber, the words " Good-night — good-night — good-night,"' 
 thrice repeated, each time in a softer and more distant tone, seeming, 
 to assure him that the gobhns and he were at truce, if not at peace,, 
 and that he had no more disturbance to expect that night. He had 
 scarcely the courage to call out a " good-night ;" for, after all his- 
 conviction of the existence of a trick, it was so well performed as to' 
 bring with it a feeling of fear, just like whit an audience experience 
 during the performance of a tragic scene, which they know to be' 
 unreal, and which yet affects their passions by its near approach to- 
 nature. Sleep overtook him at last, and left him not till broad- 
 dayhght on the ensuing morning. 
 
 O 2 
 
tje WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger, 
 
 At whose approach ghosts, -wandering here and there, 
 
 Troop home to churchyard 
 
 Midsummer NigMs Dream, 
 
 With the fresh air, and the rising of morning, every feeling of 
 the preceding night had passed away from Colonel Everard's 
 mind, excepting wonder how the effects which he had witnessed 
 could be produced. He examined the whole room, sounding bolt, 
 floor, and wainscot, with his knuckles and cane, but was unable to 
 discern any secret passages ; while the door, secured by a strong 
 cross bolt, and the lock besides, remained as firm as when he had 
 fastened it on the preceding evening. The apparition resembling 
 Victor Lee next called his attention. Ridiculous stories had been 
 often circulated, of this figure, or one exactly resembling it, having 
 been met with by night among the waste apartments and corridors 
 of the old palace ; and Markham Everard had often heard such in 
 his childhood. He was angry to recollect his own deficiency of 
 courage, and the thrill which he felt on the preceding night, when, 
 by confederacy doubtless, such an object was placed before his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Surely," he said, " this fit of childish folly could not make me 
 miss my aim— more likely that the bullet had been withdrawn 
 clandestinely from my pistol." 
 
 He examined that which was undischarged — he found the bullet 
 in it. He investigated the apartment opposite to the point at 
 which he had fired, and, at five feet from the floor, in a direct line 
 between the bedside and the place where the appearances had been 
 seen, a pistol-ball had recently buried itself in the wainscot. He 
 had little doubt, therefore, that he had fired in a just direction ; 
 and indeed to have arrived at the place where it was lodged, the 
 bullet must have passed through ihe appearance at which he aimed, 
 and proceeded point blank to the wall beydndi This Was inys» 
 terious, and induced him to doubt whether the arlt of witchcraft of 
 conjuration had not been called in to d.ssist the machinations of 
 those daring conspirators, who, being themselves mortal, mightj 
 nevertheless, according to the universal creed of the times, have 
 invoked and obtained assistance from the inhabitants of anothef 
 world. 
 
 His next investigation respected the picture of Victor Lee itself. 
 He examined it minutely as he stood on the floor before it, and 
 
WOODSTOCK. 197 
 
 compared its pale, shadowy, faintly-traced outlines, its faded 
 colours, the stern repose of the eye, and deathlike pallidness of the 
 countenance, with its different aspect on the preceding night, when 
 illuminated by the artificial light which fell full upon it, while it 
 left every other part of the room in comparative darkness. The 
 features seemed then to have an unnatural glow, while the rising 
 and falling of the flame in the chimney gave the head and limbs 
 something which resembled the appearance of actual motion. 
 Now, seen by day, it was a mere picture of the hard and ancient 
 school of Holbein ; last night, it seemed for the moment something 
 more. Determined to get to the bottom of this contrivance if 
 possible, Everard, by the assistance of a table and chair, examined 
 the portrait still more closely, and endeavoured to ascertain the 
 existence of any private spring, by which it might be slipt aside, — 
 a contrivance not unfrequent in ancient buildings, which usually 
 abounded with means of access and escape, communicated to none 
 but the lords of the castle, or their immediate confidants. But 
 the panel on which Victor Lee was painted was firmly fixed in the 
 wainscoting of the apartment, of which it made a part, and the 
 Colonel satisfied himself that it could not have been used for the 
 purpose which he had suspected. 
 
 He next aroused his faithful squire Wildrake, who, notwithstand- 
 ing his deep share of the " blessedness of sleep," had scarce even 
 yet got rid of the effects of the grace-cup of the preceding evening. 
 " It was the reward," according to his own view of the matter, " of 
 his temperance ; one single draught having made him sleep more 
 late and more sound than a matter of half-a-dozen, or from thence 
 to a dozen pulls, would have done, when he was guilty of tha 
 enormity of rere-suppers,* and of drinking deep after them. 
 
 " Had your temperate draught," said Everard, " been but a 
 thought more strongly seasoned, Wildrake, thou hadst slept so 
 sound that the last trump only could have waked thee." 
 
 " And then," answered Wildrake, " I should have waked with a 
 headach, Mark ; for I see my modest sip has not exempted me 
 from that epilogue. — But let us go forth, and see how the nightj 
 which we have passed so strangely, has been spent by the rest of 
 them. I suspect they are all right willing to evacuate Woodstock, 
 unless they have either rested better than we, or at least been more 
 lucky in lodgings." 
 
 " In that case, I will dispatch thee down to Joceline's hut, to 
 negociate the re-entrance of Sir Henry Lee and his family into 
 their old apartments, where, my interest with the General being 
 joined with the indifferent repute of the place itself, I think they 
 have little chance of being disturbed either by the present, or by 
 any new Commissioners." 
 
jg8 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " But how are they to defend themselves against the fiends, my 
 gallant Colonel?" said Wildrake. " Methinks, had I an interest 
 in yonder pretty girl, such as thou dost boast, I should be loath to 
 expose her to the terrors of a residence at Woodstock, where these 
 devils— I beg their pardon, for I suppose they hear every word we 
 say— these merry goblins— make such gay work from twilight till 
 morning." 
 
 " My dear Wildrake," said the Colonel, " I, as well as you, 
 believe it possible that our speech may be overheard ; but I care 
 not, and will speak my mind plainly. I trust Sir Henry and Alice 
 are not engaged in this silly plot ; I cannot reconcile it with the 
 pride of the one, the modesty of the other, or the good sense of 
 both, that any motive could engage them in so strange a conjunc- 
 tion. But the fiends are all of your own political persuasion, Wild- 
 rake, all true-blue cavaliers ; and I am convinced, that Sir Henry 
 and Alice Lee, though they be unconnected with them, have not 
 the slightest cause to be apprehensive of their goblin machinations. 
 Besides, Sir Henry and Joceline must know every corner about 
 the place : it will be far more difficult to play off any ghostly 
 machinery upon him than upon strangers. But let us to our 
 toilet, and when water and brush have done their work, we will 
 enquire what is next to be done. 
 
 " Nay, that wretched puritan's garb of mine is hardly worth 
 brushing," said Wildrake ; " and but for this hundred-weight of 
 rusty iron, with which thou hast bedizened me, I look more like a 
 bankrupt Quaker than any thing else. But I'll make you as spruce 
 as ever was a canting rogue of your party." 
 So saying, and humming at the same time the cavalier tune — 
 
 " Though for a time we see Whitehall 
 With cobwebs hung around the wall, 
 Yet Heaven shall make amends for all. 
 When the King shall enjoy his own again' " 
 
 " Thou forgettest who are without," said Colonel Everard. 
 
 " No— I remember who are within," replied his friend. " I only 
 sing to my merry goblins, who will like me all the better for it. 
 Tush, man, the devils are my ioftos soctos, and when I see them, I 
 will warrant they prove such roaring boys as I knew when I served 
 ' under Lumford and Goring, fellows with long nails that nothing 
 escaped, bottomless stomachs that nothing filled— mad for pillaging, 
 ranting, drinking, and fighting — sleeping rough on the trenches, 
 and dying stubbornly in their boots. Ah ! those merry days are 
 gone ! Well, it is the fashion to make a grave face on't among 
 cavaliers, and specially the parsons that have lost their tithe-pigs ; 
 but I was fitted for the element of the time, and never did or can 
 
WOODSTOCK, 199 
 
 desire merrier days than I had during that same barbaYous, bloody, 
 and unnatural rebellion." 
 
 " Thou wart ever a wild sea-bird, Roger, even according to your 
 name ; liking the gale better than the calm, the boisterous ocean 
 better than the smooth lake, and your rough, wild struggle against 
 the wind, than daily food, ease, and quiet." 
 
 " Pshaw ! a fig for your smooth lake, and your old woman to 
 feed me with brewer's grains, and the poor drake obliged to come 
 swattering whenever she whistles ! Everard, I like to feel the wind 
 rustle against my pinions — ^now diving, now on the crest of the 
 wave, now in ocean, now in sky — that is the wild-drake's joy, my 
 grave one ! And in the Civil War so it went with us — down in 
 one county, up in another, beaten to-day, victorious to-morrow— 
 now starving in some barren leaguer — now revelling in a Pres- 
 byterian's pantry — his cellars, his plate-chest, his old judicial 
 thumb-ring, his pretty serving-wench, all at command ! " 
 
 " Hush, friend," said Everard ; " remember I hold that per- 
 suasion." 
 
 " More the pity, Mark, more the pity," said Wildrake ; "but, as 
 you say, it is needless talking of it. Let us e'en go and see how 
 your Presbyterian pastor, Mr. Holdenough, has fared, and whether 
 he has proved more able to foil the foul Fiend than have you his 
 disciple and auditor." 
 
 They left the apartment accordingly, and were overwhelmed with 
 the various incoherent accounts of sentinels and others, all of whom 
 had seen or heard something extraordinary in the course of the 
 night. It is needless to describe particularly the various rumours 
 which each contributed to the common stock, with the greater 
 alacrity that in such cases there seems always to be a sort of 
 disgrace in not having seen or suffered as much as others. 
 
 The most moderate of the narrators only talked of sounds like the 
 mewing of a cat, or the growling of a dog, especially the squeaking of 
 a pig. They heard also as if it had been nails driven and saws used, 
 and the clashing of fetters, and the rustling of silk gowns, and the 
 notes of music, and in short all sorts of sounds which have nothing 
 to do with each other. Others swore they had smelt savours of 
 various kinds, chiefly bituminous, indicating a Satanic derivation ; 
 others did not indeed swear, but protested, to visions of men in 
 armour, horses without heads, asses with horns, and cows with 
 six legs, not to mention black figures, whose cloven hoofs gave 
 plain information what realm they belonged to. 
 
 But these strongly-attested cases of nocturnal disturbances among 
 the sentinels had been so general, as to prevent alarm and succour 
 on any particular point, so that those who were on duty called in 
 vain on the corps-de-garde^ who were trembling on their own post ; 
 
20O \\'OODSTOCK, 
 
 and an alert enemy might have done complete execution on the 
 whole garrison. But amid this general alerte, no violence appeared 
 to be meant, and annoyance, not injury, seemed to have been the 
 goblin's object, excepting in the case of one poor fellow, a trooper, 
 who had followed Harrison in half his battles, and now was sentinel 
 in that very vestibule upon which Everard had recommended them 
 to mount a guard. He had presented his carabine at something 
 which came suddenly upon him, when it was wrested out of his 
 hands, and he himself knocked down with the bul-end of it. His 
 broken head, and the drenched bedding of Desborough, upon whom 
 a tub of ditch water had been emptied during his sleep, were 
 the only pieces of real evidence to attest the disturbances of the 
 night. 
 
 The reports from Harrison's apartment were, as delivered by the 
 grave Master Tomkins, that truly the General had passed the night 
 undisturbed, though there was still upon him a deep sleep, and a 
 folding of the hands to slumber ; from which Everard argued that 
 the machinators had esteemed Harrison's part of the reckoning 
 sufficiently paid off on the preceding evening. 
 
 He then proceeded to the apartment doubly garrisoned by the 
 worshipful Desborough, and the philosophical Bletson. They were 
 both up and dressing themselves, the former open-mouthed in his 
 feeling of fear and suffering. Indeed, no sooner had Everard 
 entered, than the ducked and dismayed Colonel made a dismal 
 complaint of the way he had spent the night, and murmured not a 
 little against his worshipful kinsman, for imposing a task upon him 
 which inferred so much annoyance. 
 
 "Could not his Excellency, my kinsman Noll," he said, "have 
 given his poor relative and brother-in-law a sop somewhere else, 
 than out of this Woodstock, which seems to be the devil's own 
 porridge-pot .'' I cannot sup broth with the devil ; I have no long 
 spoon — not I. Could he not have quartered me in some quiet 
 corner, and given this haunted place to some of his preachers and 
 prayers, who know the Bible as well as the muster-roll? whereas I 
 know the four hoofs of a clean-going nag, or the points of a team of 
 oxen, better than all the books of Moses. But I will give it over, 
 at once and for ever ; hopes of earthly gain shall never make me 
 run the risk of being carried away bodily by the devil, besides being 
 set upon my head one whole night, and soused with ditch water the 
 next — No, no — I am too wise for that." 
 
 Master Bletson had a different part to act. He complained of 
 no personal annoyances ; on the contrary, he declared he should 
 have slept as well as ever he did in his life, but for the abominable 
 disturbances around him, of men calling to arms every half hour, 
 ■ffbgn so much as q. cat trotted by one of their posts— He would 
 
WOODSTOCK. 201 
 
 rather, he said, " have slept among a whole sabaoth of witches, if 
 such creatures could be found." 
 
 " Then you think there are no such things as apparitions, Master 
 Bletson ? " said Evcrard. " I used to be sceptical on the subject ; 
 but, on my life, to-night has been a strange one." 
 
 " Dreams, dreams, dreams, my simple Colonel," said Bletson, 
 though his pale face, and shaking limbs, belied the assumed courage 
 with which he gpoke.- " Old Chaucer, sir, hath told us the real 
 moral on't — He was an old frequenter of the forest of Woodstock, 
 here " 
 
 "Chaser?" said Desborough ; "some huntsman belike, by his 
 name — Does he walk, like Hearne at "Windsor ? " 
 
 " Chaucer," said Bletson, " my dear Desborough, is one of those 
 wonderful fellows, as Colonel Everard knows, who live many a 
 hundred years after they are buried, and whose words haunt our 
 ears after their bones are long mouldered in the dust." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! well," answered Desborough, to whom this description 
 of the old poet was unintelligible — " I for one desire his room rather 
 than his company — one of your conjurers, I warrant him. But 
 what says he to the matter ? " 
 
 " Only a slight spell, which I will take the freedom to repeat to 
 Colonel Everard," said Bletson ; " but which would be as bad 
 as Greek to thee, Desborough. — Old Geoffrey lays the whole blame 
 of our nocturnal disturbance on superfluity of humours, 
 
 ' Which causen folke to dred in their dreams 
 Of arrowes, and of fire with red gleams, 
 Right as the humour of Melancholy 
 Causeth many a man in sleep to cry 
 For fear of great bulls and bears black, 
 And others that black devils will them take.' " 
 
 While he was thus declaiming, Everard observed a book sticking 
 out from beneath the pillow of the bed lately occupied by the hon- 
 ourable member. 
 
 "Is that Chaucer?" he said, making to the volume — " I would 
 like to look at the passage " 
 
 " Chaucer ? " — said Bletson, hastening to interfere ; " no — that is 
 Lucretius, my darling Lucretius. I cannot let you see it — I have 
 some private marks." 
 
 But by this time Everard had the book in his hand. " Lucre- 
 tius ? " he said ; " no, Master Bletson— this is not Lucretius, but a 
 fitter comforter in dread or in danger — Why should you be ashamed 
 of it ? — Only, Bletson, instead of resting your head, if you can but 
 anchor your heart upon this volume, it may serve you in better 
 Stead than Lucretius or Chaucer either." 
 
202 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Why, what book is it ? " said Bletson, his pale cheek colouring 
 with the shame of detection. — " Oh, the Bible ? " throwing it down 
 contemptuously — " some book of my fellow Gibeon's — these Jews 
 have been always superstitious — ever since Juvenal's time, thou 
 knowest — 
 
 * Qualiacunque voles Judaei somnia vendunt.' 
 
 He left me the old book for a spell, I warrant you, for 'tis a well- 
 meaning fool." 
 
 " He would scarce have left the New Testament, as well as the 
 Old," said Everard. " Come, my dear Bletson, do not be ashamed 
 of the wisest thing you ever did in your life, supposing you took 
 your Bible in an hour of apprehension, with a view to profit by the 
 contents." 
 
 Bletson's vanity was so much galled, that it overcame his con- 
 stitutional cowardice. His little thin fingers quivered for eagerness, 
 his neck and cheeks were as red as scarlet, and his articulation was 
 as thick and vehement as — in short, as if he had been no philo- 
 sopher. 
 
 " Master Everard," he said, " you are a man of the sword, sir, — 
 and, sir, you seem to suppose yourself entitled to say whatever comes 
 into your mind with respect to civilians, sir — But I would have you 
 remember, sir, that there are bounds beyond which human patience 
 may be urged, sir, — and jests which no man of honour will endure, 
 sir,^and therefore, I expect an apology for your present language, 
 Colonel Everard, and this unmannerly jesting, sir, — or you may 
 chance to hear from me in a way that will not please you." 
 
 Everard could not help smiling at this explosion of valour, en- 
 gendered by irritated self-love. 
 
 " Look you. Master Bletson," he said, " I have been a soldier, 
 that is true, but I was never a bloody-minded one ; and as a Chris- 
 tian, I am unwilling to enlarge the kingdom of darkness by sending 
 a new vassal thither before his time. If heaven gives you time to 
 repent, [I see no reason why my hand should deprive you of it, 
 which, were we to have a rencontre, would be your fate in the 
 thrust of a sword, or the pulling of a trigger — I therefore prefer to 
 apologize ; and I call Desborough, if he has recovered his wits, to 
 bear evidence that I do apologize for having suspected you, who 
 are completely the slave of yqur own vanity, of any tendency, how- 
 ever slight, towards grace or good sense. And I farther apologize 
 for the time that I have wasted in endeavouring to wash an Ethio- 
 pian white, or in recommending rational enquiry to a self-willed 
 atheist." 
 
 Bletson, overjoyed at the turn the matter had taken — for the de- 
 fiance was scarce out of his mouth ere he began to tremble for the 
 
WOODSTOCK. 203 
 
 consequences — answered with great eagerness and servility of 
 manner, — " Nay, dearest Colonel, say no more of it — an apology is 
 all that is necessary among men of honour — it neither leaves dis- 
 honour with him who asks it, nor infers degradation on him who 
 makes it." 
 
 " Not such an apology as I have made, I trust," said the Colonel. 
 
 "No, no — not in the least," answered Bletson, — "one apology 
 serves me just as well as another, and Desborough will bear witness 
 you have made one, and that is all there can be said on the 
 subject." 
 
 " Master Desborough and you," rejoined the Colonel, " will 
 take care how the matter is reported, I dare say, and I only 
 recommend to both, that, if mentioned at all, it may be told 
 correctly." 
 
 " Nay, nay, we will not mention it at all," said Bletson, " we will 
 forget it from this moment. Only, never suppose me capable of 
 superstitious weakness. Had I been afraid of an apparent and 
 real danger— why such fear is natural to man — and I will not deny 
 that the mood of mind may have happened to me as well as to 
 others. But to be thought capable of resorting to spells, and sleep- 
 ing with books under my pillow to secure myself against ghosts, — 
 on my word, it was enough to provoke one to quarrel, for the mo- 
 ment, with his very best friend. — And now, Colonel, what is to be 
 done, and how is our duty to be executed at this accursed place ? 
 If I should get such a wetting as Desborough's, why I should die 
 of catarrh, though you see it hurts him no more than a bucket of 
 water thrown over a posthorse. You are, I presume, a brother in 
 our commission ; how are you of opinion we should proceed ? " 
 
 "Why, in good time here comes Harrison," said Everard, "and 
 I will lay my commission from the Lord General before you all ; 
 which, as you see. Colonel Desborough, commands you to desist 
 from acting on your present authority, and intimates his pleasure 
 accordingly, that you withdraw from this place." 
 
 Desborough took the paper and examined the signature. — " It is 
 Noll's signature sure enough," said he, dropping his underjaw ; "only, 
 every time of late he has made the Oliver as large as a giant, while 
 the Cromwell creeps after like a dwarf, as if the surname were like 
 to disappear one of these days altogether. But is his Excellency, 
 our kinsman, Noll Cromwell, (since he has the surname yet,) so un- 
 reasonable as to think his relations and friends are to be set upon 
 their heads till they have the crick in their neck — drenched as if 
 they had been plunged in a horsepond — frightened, day and night, 
 by all sort of devils, witches, and fairies, and get not a penny of 
 smart-money? Adzooks, (forgive me for swearing,) if that's the 
 case, I had better home to my farm, and mind team and herd, than 
 
ao4 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 dangle after such a thankless person, though I have wived his 
 sister. She was poor enough when I took her, for as high as Noll 
 holds his head now." 
 
 " It is not my purpose," said Bletson, " to stir debate in this 
 honourable meeting ; and no one will doubt the veneration and 
 attachment which I bear to our noble General, whom the current of 
 events, and his own matchless qualities of courage and constancy, 
 have raised so high in these deplorable days. — If I were to term 
 him a direct and immediate emanation of the Animus Mnndi 
 itself— something which Nature had produced in her proudest hour, 
 while exerting herself, as is her law, for the preservation of the 
 creatures to whom she has given existence — I should scarce exhaust 
 the ideas which I entertain of him. Always protesting, that I am 
 by no means to be held as admitting, but merely as granting for 
 the sake of argument, the possible existence of that species of 
 emanation, or exhalation, ixoxa.'dxe. Animus Mundi, of which I have 
 made mention. I appeal to you. Colonel Desborough, who are his 
 Excellency's relation — to you. Colonel Everard, who hold the 
 dearer title of his friend, whether I have overrated my zeal in his 
 behalf? " 
 
 Everardbowedat this pause, but Desborough gave a more complete 
 authentication. " Nay, I can bear witness to that ! I have seen 
 when you were willing to tie his points or brush his cloak, or the 
 like— and to be treated thus ungratefully— and gudgeoned of the 
 opportunities which had been given you " 
 
 " It is not for that," said Bletson, waving his hand gracefully. 
 " You do me wrong, Master Desborough — you do indeed, kind sir— 
 although I know you meant it not — No, sir — no partial considera- 
 tion of private interest prevailed on me to undertake this charge. 
 It was conferred on me by the Parliament of England, in whose 
 name this war commenced, and by the Council of State, who are 
 the conservators of England's liberty. And the chance and serene 
 hope of serving the country, the confidence that I — and you, 
 Master Desborough — and you, worthy General Harrison — superior, 
 as I am, to all selfish considerations — to which I am sure you also, 
 good Colonel Everard, would be superior, had you been named in 
 this commission, as I would to Heaven you had— I say, the hope 
 of serving the country, with the aid of such respectable associates, 
 one and all of them — as well as you. Colonel Everard, supposing 
 you to have been of the number, induced me to accept of this 
 opportunity, whereby I might, gratuitously, with your assistance, 
 render so much advantage to our dear mother the Commonwealth 
 of England. — Such was my hope — my trust — my confidence. And 
 now comes my Lord General's warrant to dissolve the authority by 
 which we are entitled to act. Gentlemen, I ask this honourable 
 
WOODSTOCK. 265 
 
 meeting, (with all respect to his Excellency,) whether his commis- 
 sion be paramount to that from which he himself directly holds his 
 commission ? No one will say so. I ask whether he has climbed 
 into the seat from which the late Man descended, or hath a great 
 seal, or means to proceed by prerogative in such a case t I cannot 
 see reason to believe it, and therefore I must resist such doctrine. 
 I am in your judgment, my brave and honourable colleagues ; but, 
 touching my own poor opinion, I feel myself under the unhappy 
 necessity of proceeding in our commission, as if the interruption 
 had not taken place ; with this addition, that the Board of Seques- 
 trators should sit, by day, at this same Lodge of Woodstock, but 
 that, to reconcile the minds of weak brethren, who may be afflicted 
 by superstitious rumours, as well as to avoid any practice on our 
 persons by the malignants, who, I am convinced, are busy in this 
 neighbourhood, we should remove our sittings after sunset to the 
 George Inn, in the neighbouring borough." 
 
 " Good Master Bletson,'' replied Colonel Everard, " it is not for 
 me to reply to you ; but you may know in what characters this 
 army of England and their General write their authority. I fear 
 me the annotation on this precept of the General, will be expressed 
 by the march of a troop of horse from Oxford to see it executed, 
 I believe there are orders out for that effect j and you know by late 
 experience, that the soldier will obey his General equally against 
 King and Parliament." 
 
 " That obedience is conditional," said Harrison; startitig fiei'cely 
 up. " Know'st thou not, Markham Everard, that I have followed 
 the man Cromwell as close as the bull-dog follows his master ? — 
 and so I will yet ; — but I am no spaniel, either to be beaten, or to 
 have the food I have earned snatched from me, as if I Were a vile 
 cur, whose wages are a whipping, and free leave to wealf my own 
 skin. I looked, amongst the three of us, that we might honestly 
 and piously, and with advantage to the Commonwealth, have gained 
 out of this commission three, or it may be five thousand pounds. 
 And does Cromwell imagine I will part with it for a rough word ?, 
 No man goeth a warfare on his own charges. He that serves the 
 altar must live by the altar — and the saints must have means to 
 provide them with good harness atld flresh horses agaillst the un- 
 sealin!^ and the pouring forth. Does CroniweU think I am so much 
 ef a tame tiger as to permit him to tend ffom me at pleasure the 
 miserable dole he hath thrown me? Of a surety I will resist ; and 
 the men who are here, being chiefly of my own regiment— men who 
 wait and who expect, with lamps burning and loins girded, and each 
 one his weapon bound upon his thigh, will aid me to make this house 
 good ao-ainst every assault— ay, even against Cromwell himself, until 
 the latter coming-Selah ! Selah ! " 
 
205 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " And I," said Desborough, " will levy troops and protect your 
 out-quarters, not choosing at present to close myself up in garri- 
 son" 
 
 "And I," said Bletson, " will do my part, and hie me to town 
 and lay the matter before Parliament, arising in my place for that 
 effect." 
 
 Everard was little moved by all these threats. The only formid- 
 able one, indeed, was that of Harrison, whose enthusiasm, joined 
 with his courage, and obstinacy, and character among the fanatics 
 of his own principles, made him a dangerous enemy. Before trying 
 any arguments with the refractory Major-General, Everard endea- 
 voured to moderate his feelings, and threw something in about the 
 late disturbances. 
 
 " Talk not to me of supernatural disturbances, young man — talk 
 not to me of enemies in the body or out of the body. Am I not 
 the champion chosen and commissioned to encounter and to con- 
 quer the great Dragon, and the Beast which cometh out of the sea ? 
 Am I not to command the left wing and two regiments of the 
 centre, when the Saints shall encounter with the countless legions 
 of Gog and Magog ? I tell thee that my name is written on the 
 sea of glass mingled with fire, and that I will keep this place of 
 Woodstock against all mortal men, and against all devils, whether 
 in field or chamber, in the forest or in the ineadow, even till the 
 Saints reign in the fulness of their glory ! " 
 
 Everard saw it was then time to produce two or three lines under 
 Cromwell's hand, which he had received from the General, subse- 
 quently to the communication through Wildrake. The information 
 they contained was calculated to allay the disappointment of the 
 commissioners. This document assigned as the reason of super- 
 seding the Woodstock Commission, that he should probably pro- 
 pose to the Parliament to require the assistance of General Harrison, 
 Colonel Desborough, and Master Bletson, the honourable member 
 for Littlefaith, in a much greater matter, namely, the disposing of 
 the royal property, and disparking of the King's forest at Windsor, 
 So soon as this idea was started, all parties pricked up their ears ; 
 and their drooping, and gloomy and vindictive looks began to give 
 place to courteous smiles, and to a cheerfulness, which laughed in 
 their eyes, and turned their mustaches upwards. 
 
 Colonel Desborough acquitted his right honourable and excel- 
 lent cousin and kinsman of all species of unkindness ; Master 
 Bletson discovered, that the interest of the state was trebly con- 
 cerned in the good administration of Windsor more than in that of 
 Woodstock. As for Harrison, he exclaimed, without disguise or 
 hesitation, that the gleaning of the grapes of Windsor was better 
 than the vintage of Woodstock. Thus speaking, the glance of his 
 
WOODSTOCK. 207 
 
 dark eye expressed as much triumph in the proposed earthly advan- 
 tage, as if it had not been, according to his vain persuasion, to be 
 shortly exchanged for his share in the general reign of the Millen- 
 nium, His delight, in short, resembled the joy of an eagle, who 
 preys upon a lamb in the evening with not the less relish, because 
 she descries in the distant landscape an hundred thousand men 
 about to join battle with daybreak, and to give her an endless feast 
 on the hearts and lifeblood of the valiant. 
 
 Yet though all agreed that they would be obedient to the Gene- 
 ral's pleasure in this matter, Bletson proposed, as a precautionary 
 measure, in which all agreed, that they should take up their abode 
 for some time in the town of Woodstock, to wait for their new 
 commissions respecting Windsor ; and this upon . the prudential 
 consideration, that it was best not to slip one knot until another 
 was first tied. 
 
 Each commissioner, therefore, wrote to Oliver individually, 
 stating, in his own way, the depth and height, length and breadth, 
 of his attachment to him. Each expressed himself resolved to obey 
 the General's injunctions to the uttermost ; but with the same 
 scrupulous devotion to the Parliament, each found himself at a loss 
 how to lay down the commission intrusted to them by that body, 
 and therefore felt bound in conscience to take up his residence at 
 the borough of Woodstock, that he might not seem to abandon the 
 charge committed to them, until they should be called to adminis- 
 trate the weightier matter of Windsor, to which they expressed their 
 willingness instantly to devote themselves, according to his Excel- 
 lency's pleasure. 
 
 This was the general style of their letters, varied by the charac- 
 teristic flourishes of the writers. Desborough, for example, said 
 something about the religious duty of providing for one's own house- 
 hold, only he blundered the text. Bletson wrote long and big words 
 about the political obligation incumbent on every member of the 
 community, on every person, to sacrifice his time and talents to the 
 service of his country ; while Harrison talked of the littleness of 
 present affairs, in comparison of the approaching tremendous 
 change of all things beneath the sun. But although the garnishing 
 of the various epistles was different, the result came to the same, 
 that they were determined at least to keep sight of Woodstock, 
 until they were well assured of some better and more profitable 
 commission, 
 
 Everard also wrote a letter in the most grateful terms to Crom- 
 well, which would probably have been less warm had he known 
 more distinctly than his follower chose to tell him, the expectation 
 under which the wily General had granted his request. He ac- 
 quainted his Excellency with his purpose of continuing at Wood- 
 
208 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 stock, partly to assure himself of the motions of the three Commis- 
 sioners, and to watch whether they did not again enter upon the 
 execution of the trust, which they had for the present renounced, — 
 and partly to see that some extraordinary circumstances, which had 
 taken place in the Lodge, and which would doubtless transpire, 
 were not followed by any explosion to the disturbance of the public 
 peace. He knew (as he expressed himself) that his Excellency was 
 so much the friend of order, that he would rather disturbances or 
 insurrections were prevented than punished ; and he conjured 
 the General to repose confidence in his exertions for the public 
 service by every mode within his power ; not aware, it will be 
 observed, in what peculiar sense his general pledge might be inter- 
 preted. 
 
 These letters being made up into a packet, were forwarded to 
 Windsor by a trooper, detached on that errand. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 We do that in our zeal, 
 
 Our calmer momenta are afraid to answer. 
 
 AnonymotiS, 
 
 While the Commissioners were preparing to remove themselves 
 from the Lodge to the inn at the borough of Woodstock, with all 
 that state and bustle which attend the movements of great persons, 
 and especially of such to whom greatness is not entirely familiar, 
 Everard held some colloquy with the. Presbyterian clergyman. 
 Master Holdenough, who had issued from the apartment which he 
 had occupied, as it were in defiance of the spirits by whom the 
 mansion Was supposed to be disturbed, and whose pale cheek and 
 pensive brow gave token that he had not passed the night more 
 comfortably than the other irimates of the Lodge of Woodstock. 
 Colonel Everard having offered to procure the reverend gentleman 
 some refreshment, received this reply :— " This day shall I not 
 taste food, saving that which we are assured of as sufficient for our 
 sustenance, where it is promised that our bread shall be given us, 
 and our water shall be sure. Not that I fast, in the papistical 
 opinion that it adds to those merits, which are but an accumula- 
 tion of filthy rags ; but because I hold it needful that no grosser 
 sustenance should this day cloud my understanding, or render less 
 pure and vivid the thanks I owe to Heaven for a most wonderful 
 preservation." 
 
 " Master Holdenough," said Everard, " you are, I know, both a 
 
WOODSTOCK. 209 
 
 ,good man and a bold one, and I saw you last night courageously go 
 upon your sacred duty, when soldiers, and tried ones, seemed con- 
 siderably alarmed." 
 
 "Too courageous — too venturous," was Master Holdenough's 
 reply, the boldness of whose aspect seemed completely to have 
 died away. " We are frail creatures, Master Everard, and frailest 
 when we think ourselves strongest. Oh, Colonel Everard," he 
 added, after a pause, and as if the confidence was partly involun- 
 tary, " I have seen that which I shall never survive ! " 
 
 " You surprise me, reverend sir," said Everard ; — " may I request 
 you will speak more plainly ? I have heard some stories of this 
 wild night, nay, have witnessed strange things myself ; but, me- 
 thinks, I would be much interested in knowing the nature of your 
 disturbance." 
 
 " Sir," said the clergyman, "you are a discreet gentleman ; and 
 though I would not willingly that these heretics, schismatics, 
 Brownists, Muggletonians, Anabaptists, and so forth, had such an 
 opportunity of triumph, as my defeat in this matter would hava 
 afforded them, yet with you, who have been ever a faithful follower 
 of our church, and are pledged to the good cause by the great 
 National League and Covenant, surely I would be more open. Sit 
 we down, therefore, and let me call for a glass of pure water, for as 
 yet I feel some bodily faltering ; though, I thank Heaven, I am in 
 mind resolute and composed as a merely mortal man may after 
 such a vision. — They say, worthy Colonel, that looking on such 
 things foretells, or causes, speedy death — I know not if it be true ; 
 but if so, I only depart like the tried sentinel when his officer re- 
 leases him from his post ; and glad shall I be to close these 
 wearied eyes against the sight, and shut these harassed ears 
 against the croaking, as of frogs, of Antinomians, and Pelagians, 
 and Socinians, and Arminians, and Arians, and NuUifidians, which 
 have come up into our England, like those filthy reptiles into the 
 house of Pharaoh." 
 
 Here one of the servants who had been summoned, entered with 
 a cup of water, gazing at the same time in the face of the clergyman, 
 as if his stupid grey eyes were endeavouring to read what tragic 
 tale was written on his brow ; and shaking his empty skull as he 
 left the room, with the air of one who was proud of having discovered 
 that all was not exactly right, though he could not so well guess 
 what was wrong. 
 
 Colonel Everard invited the good man to take some refreshment 
 more genial than the pure element, but he declined : " I am in 
 some sort a champion," he said ; " and though I have been foiled 
 in the late controversy with the Enemy, still I have my trumpet to 
 give the alarm, and my sharp sword to smite withal ; therefore, 
 
 P 
 
2IO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 like the Nazarites of old, I will eat nothing that cometh of the vine, 
 neither drink wine nor strong drink, until these my days of combat 
 shall have passed away." 
 
 Kindly and respectfully the Colonel anew pressed Master Hold- 
 enough to communicate the events that had befallen him on the 
 preceding night ; and the good clergyman proceeded as follows, 
 with that little characteristical touch of vanity in his narrative, 
 which naturally arose out of the part he had played in the world, 
 and the iniluence which he had exercised over the minds of others. 
 " I was a young man at the University of Cambridge," he said, 
 " when I was particularly bound in friendship to a fellow-student, 
 perhaps because we were esteemed (though it is vain to mention it) 
 the most hopeful scholars at our college ; and so equally advanced, 
 that it was difficult, perhaps, to say which was the greater proficient 
 in his studies. Only our tutor. Master Purefoy, used to say, that 
 if my comrade had the advantage of me iri gifts, I had the better 
 of him in grace ; for he was attached to the profane learning of the 
 classics, always unprofitable, often impious and impure ; and I had 
 light enough to turn my studies into the sacred tongues. Also we 
 differed in our opinions touching the Church of England, for he 
 held Arminian opinions, with Laud, and those who would connect 
 our ecclesiastical establishment with the civil, and make the Church 
 dependent on the breath of an earthly man. In fine, he favoured 
 Prelacy both in essentials and ceremonial ; and although we parted 
 with tears and embraces, it was to follow very different courses. He 
 obtained a living, and became a great controversial writer in behalf 
 of the Bishops and of the Court. I also, as is well known to you, 
 to the best of my poor abilities, sharpened my pen in the cause of 
 the poor oppressed people, whose tender consciences rejected the 
 rites and ceremonies more befitting a papistical than a reformed 
 Church, and which, according to the blinded policy of the Court, 
 were enforced by pains and penalties. Then came the Civil War, 
 and I — called thereunto by my conscience, and nothing fearing or 
 suspecting what miserable consequences have chanced, through 
 the rise of these Independents — consented to lend my countenance 
 and labour to the great work, by becoming chaplain to Colonel 
 Harrison's regiment. Not that I mingled with carnal weapons in 
 the field — which Heaven forbid that a minister of the altar should 
 —but I preached, exhorted, and, in time of need, was a surgeon, as 
 well to the wounds of the body as of the soul. Now, it fell, to- 
 wards the end of the war, that a party of malignants had seized on 
 a strong house in the shire of Shrewsbury, situated on a small 
 island, advanced into a lake, and accessible only by a small and 
 narrow causeway. From thence they made excursions, and vexed 
 the country ; and high time it was to suppress them, so that a part- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 211 
 
 of our regiment went to reduce them ; and I was requested to go, 
 for they were few in number to take in so strong a place, and the 
 Colonel judged that my exhortations would make them do valiantly. 
 And so, contrary to my wont, I went forth with them, even to the 
 field, where there was valiant fighting on both sides. Nevertheless, 
 the malignants shooting their wall-pieces at us, had so much the 
 advantage, that after bursting their gates with a salvo of our cannon, 
 Colonel Harrison ordered his men to advance on the causeway, and 
 try to carry the place by storm. Natheless, although our men did 
 valiantly, advancing in good order, yet being galled on every side 
 by the fire, they at length fell into disorder, and were retreating 
 with much loss, Harrison himself valiantly bringing up the rear, 
 and defending them as he could against the enemy, who sallied 
 forth in pursuit of them, to smite them hip and thigh. Now, 
 Colonel Everard, I am a man of a quick and vehement temper 
 by nature, though better teachings than the old law hath made me 
 mild and patient as you now see me. I could not bear to see our 
 Israelites flying before the Philistines, so I rushed upon the cause- 
 way, with the Bible in one hand, and a halberd, which I had caught 
 up, in the other, and turned back the foremost fugitives, by threatening 
 to strike them down, pointing out to them at the same time a 
 priest in his cassock, as they call it, who was among the malig- 
 nants, and asking them whether they would not do as much for a 
 true servant of Heaven, as the uncircumcised would for a priest -of 
 Baal. My words and strokes prevailed ; they turned at once, and 
 shouting out, Down with Baal and his worshippers ! they charged 
 the malignants so unexpectedly home, that they not only drove 
 them back into their house of garrison, but entered it with them, 
 as the phrase is, pellmell. I also was there, partly hurried on by 
 the crowd, partly to prevail on our enraged soldiers to give quarter j 
 for it grieved my heart to see Christians and Englishmen hashed 
 down with swords and gunstocks, like curs in the street when there 
 is an alarm of mad dogs. In this way, the soldiers fighting and 
 slaughtering, and I caUing to them to stay their hand, we gained 
 the very roof of the building, which was in part leaded, and to 
 which, as a last tower of refuge, those of the cavaliers, who yet 
 escaped, had retired. I was myself, I may say, forced up the 
 narrow winding staircase by our soldiers, who rushed on like dogs 
 of chase upon their prey ; and when extricated from the passage, 
 I found myself in the midst of a horrid scene. The scattered 
 defenders were, some resisting with the fury of despair ; some on 
 their knees, imploring for compassion in words and tones to break 
 a man's heart when he thinks on them ; some were calling on God 
 for mercy ; and it was time, for man had none. They were stricken 
 down, thrust through, flung from the battlements into the lake ; and 
 
 P a 
 
212 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the wild cries of the victors, mingled with the groans, shrieks, and 
 clamours, of the vanquished, made a sound so horrible, that only 
 death can erase it from my memory. And the men who butchered 
 their fellow-creatures thus, were neither Pagans from distant savage 
 lands, nor ruffians, the refuse and offscourings of our own people. 
 They were in calm blood reasonable, nay, religious men, maintain- 
 ing a fair repute both heavenward and earthward. Oh, Master 
 Everard, your trade of war should be feared and avoided, since it 
 converts such men into wolves towards their fellow-creatures ! " 
 
 " It is a stern necessity," said Everard, looking down, " and as 
 such alone is justifiable — But proceed, reverend sir ; I see not how 
 this storm, an incident but e'en too frequent on both sides during 
 the late war, connects with the affair of last night." 
 
 " You shall hear anon," said Mr. Holdenough ; then paused as 
 one who makes an effort to compose himself before continuing a 
 relation, the tenor of which agitated him with much violence. — "In 
 this infernal tumult," he resumed — "for surely nothing on earth 
 could so much resemble hell, as when men go thus loose in mortal 
 malice on their fellow-creatures, — I saw the same priest whom I 
 had distinguished on the causeway, with one or two other malig- 
 nants, pressed into a corner by the assailants, and defending them- 
 selves to the last, as those who had no hope. — I saw him — I knew 
 him — Oh, Colonel Everard ! " 
 
 He grasped Everard's hand with his own left hand, and pressed 
 the palm of his right to his face and forehead, sobbing aloud. . 
 
 "It was your college companion ? " said Everard, anticipating 
 the catastrophe. 
 
 " Mine ancient— mine only friend— with whom I had spent the 
 happy days of youth ! — I rushed forward — I struggled — I entreated. 
 — But my eagerness left me neither voice nor language — all was 
 drowned in the wretched cry which I had myself raised— Down 
 with the priest of Baal — Slay Mattan — slay him were he between 
 the altars ! — Forced over the battlements, but struggling for life, I 
 could see him cling to one of those projections which were formed 
 to carry the water from the leads — ^but they hacked at his arms 
 and hands. — I heard the heavy fall into the bottomless abyss be- 
 low. — Excuse me — I cannot go on ! " 
 
 " He may have escaped ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no, no, no — ^the tower was four stories in height. Even 
 those who threw themselves into the lake from the lower windows, 
 to escape by swimming, had no safety ; for mounted troopers on 
 the. shore caught the same blood-thirsty humour which had seized 
 the storming party, galloped around the margin of the lake, and 
 shot those who were struggling for life in the water, or cut them 
 down as they strove to get tp land. They were all cut off and 
 
WOODSTOCIC 213 
 
 destroyed.— Oh ! may the blood shed on that day remain silent ! — 
 Oh ! that the earth may receive it in her recesses ! Oh ! that it 
 may be mingled for ever with the dark waters of that lake, so that 
 it may never cry for vengeance against those whose anger was 
 fierce, and who slaughtered in their wrath ! — And, oh ! may the 
 erring man be forgiven who came into their assembly, and lent his 
 voice to encourage their cruelty ! — Oh ! Albany, my brother, my 
 brother — I have lamented for thee even as David for Jonathan ! "* 
 The good man sobbed aloud, and so much did Colonel Everard 
 sympathize with his emotions, that he forbore to press him upon 
 the subject of his own curiosity until the full tide of remorseful 
 passion had for the time abated. It was, however, fierce and 
 agitating, the more so, perhaps, that indulgence in strong mental 
 feeling of any kind was foreign to the severe and ascetic character 
 of the man, and was therefore the more overpowering when it had 
 at once surmounted all restraints. Large tears flowed down the 
 trembling features of his thin, and usually stern, or at least austere 
 countenance ; he eagerly returned the compression of Everard's 
 hand, as if thankful for the sympathy which the caress implied. 
 
 Presently after, Master Holdenough wiped his eyes, withdrew 
 his hand gently from that of Everard, shaking it kindly as they 
 parted, and proceeded with more composure : " Forgive me this 
 burst of passionate feeling, worthy Colonel. I am conscious it 
 little becomes a man of my cloth, who should be the bearer of 
 consolation to others, to give way in mine own person to an 
 extremity of grief, weak at least, if indeed it is not sinful ; for what 
 are we, that we should weep and murmur touching that which is 
 permitted ? But Albany was to me as a brother. The happiest 
 days of my life, ere my call to mingle myself in the strife of the 
 land had awakened me to my duties, were spent in his company. — 
 I — but I will make the rest of my story short." — Here he drew his 
 chair close to that of Everard, and spoke in a solemn and mys- 
 terious tone of voice, almost lowered to a whisper — " I saw him 
 last night." 
 
 " Saw Mm—^3.-w whom?" said Everard. " Can you mean the 
 person whom " 
 
 " Whom I Saw so ruthlessly slaughtered," said the clergyman^ 
 " My ancient college-friend — Joseph Albany." 
 
 " Master Holdenough, your cloth and your character alike must 
 prevent your jesting on such a subject as this." 
 
 " Jesting ! " answered Holdenough ; " I would as soon jest on 
 my death-bed — as soon jest upon the Bible." 
 
 "But you must have been deceived," answered Everard, hastily} 
 " this tragical story necessarily often returns to your mind, and in 
 moments when the imagination overcomes the evidence of the out* 
 
214 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 ward senses, your fancy must have presented to you an unreal 
 appearance. Nothing more likely, when the mind is on the stretch 
 after something supernatural, than that the imagination should 
 supply the place with a chimera, while the over-excited feelings 
 render it difficult to dispel the delusion." 
 
 " Colonel Everard," replied Holdenough, with austerity, " in 
 discharge of my duty I must not fear the face of man ; and, there- 
 fore, I tell you plainly, as I have done before with more observ- 
 ance, that when you bring your carnal learning and judgmeiit, as 
 it is but too much your nature to do, to investigate the hidden 
 things of another world, you might as well measure with the palm 
 of your hand the waters of the Isis. Indeed, good sir, you err in 
 this, and give men too much pretence to confound your honourable 
 name with witch-advocates, free-thinkers, and Atheists, even with 
 such as this man Bletson, who, if the discipline of the church had 
 its hands strengthened, as it was in the beginning of the great con- 
 flict, would have been long ere now cast out of the pale, and 
 delivered over to the punishment of the flesh, that his spirit might, 
 if possible, be yet saved." 
 
 " You mistake, Master Holdenough," said Colonel Everard ; " I 
 do not deny the existence of such preternatural visitations, because 
 I cannot, and dare not, raise the voice of my own opinion against 
 the testimony of ages, supported by such learned men as yourself. 
 Nevertheless, though I grant the possibility of such things, I have 
 scarce yet heard of an instance in my days so well fortified by evi- 
 dence, that I could at once and distinctly say. This must have hap- 
 pened by supernatural agency, and not otherwise." 
 
 " Hear, then, what I have to tell," sai 1 the divine, " on the faith 
 of a man, a Christian, and, what is more, a servant of our Holy 
 Church ; and therefore, though unworthy, an elder and a teacher 
 among Christians. — I had taken my post yester evening in the half- 
 furnished apartment, wherein hangs a huge mirror, which might 
 have served Goliath of Gath to have admired himself in, when 
 clothed from head to foot in his brazen armour. I the rather chose 
 this place, because they informed me it was the nearest habitable 
 room to the gallery in which they say you had been yourself assailed 
 that evening by the Evil One. — ^Was it so, I pray you ? " 
 
 " By some one with no good intentions I was assailed in that 
 apartment. So far," said Colonel Everard, "you were correctly 
 informed." 
 
 " Well, I chose my post as well as I might, even as a resolved 
 general approaches his camp, and casts up his mound as nearly as 
 he can to the besieged city. And, of a truth. Colonel Everard, if 
 I felt some sensation of bodily fear, — for even Elias, and the pro- 
 phets, who commanded the elements, had a portion in our frail 
 
WOODSTOCK.. 2IS 
 
 nature, much more such a poor sinful being as myself— yet was my 
 hope and my courage high ; and I thought of the texts which I 
 might use, not in the wicked sense of periapts, or spells, as the 
 blinded Papists employ them, together with the sign of the cross, 
 and other fruitless forms, but as nourishing and supporting that 
 true trust and confidence in the blessed promises, being the true 
 shield of faith wherewith the fiery darts of Satan may be withstood 
 and quenched. And thus armed and prepared, I sat me down to 
 read, at the same time to write, that I might compel my mind to 
 attend to those subjects which became the situation in which I was 
 placed, as preventing any unlicensed excursions of the fancy, and 
 leaving no room for my imagination to brood over idle fears. So I 
 methodized, and wrote down what I thought meet for the time, and 
 peradventure some hungry souls may yet profit by the food which I 
 then prepared." 
 
 " It was wisely and worthily done, good and reverend sir," re- 
 plied Colonel Everard ; " I pray you to proceed." 
 
 " While I was thus employed, sir, and had been upon the matter 
 for about three hours, not yielding to weariness, a strange thrilling 
 came over my senses, — and the large and old-fashioned apartment 
 seemed to wax larger, more gloomy, and more cavernous, while the 
 air of the night grew more cold and chill ; I know not if it was that 
 the fire began to decay, or whether there cometh before such things 
 as were then about to happen, a breath and atmosphere, as it were, 
 of terror, as Job saith in a well-known passage, ' Fear came upon 
 me, and trembling, which made my bones to shake ; ' and there wa3 
 a tingling noise in my ears, and a dizziness in my brain, so that t 
 felt like those who call for aid when there is no danger, and was 
 even prompted to flee, when I saw no one to pursue. It was then 
 that something seemed to pass behind me, casting a reflection 
 on the great mirror before which I had placed my writing-table, 
 and which I saw by assistance of the large standing light which was 
 then in front of the glass. And I looked up, and I saw in the glass 
 distinctly the appearance of a man — as sure as these words issue 
 from my mouth, it was no other than the same Joseph Albany— 
 the companion of my youth — he whom I had seen precipitated 
 down the battlements of Clidesthrough Castle into the deep lake 
 below ! " 
 
 "What did you do?" 
 
 " It suddenly rushed on my mind," said the divine, " that the 
 stoical philosopher Athenodorus had eluded the horrors of such a 
 vision by patiently pursuing his studies ; and it shot at the same 
 time across my mind, that I, a Christian divine, and a Steward of 
 the Mysteries, had less reason to fear evil, and better matter on 
 which, to employ my thoughts, than was possessed by a Heathen, 
 
2i6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 who was blinded even by his own wisdom. So, instead of betraying 
 any alarm, or even turning my head around, I pursued my writing, 
 but with a beating heart, I admit, and with a throbbing hand." 
 
 " If you could write at all," said the Colonel, " with such an im- 
 pression on your mind, you may take the head of the English army 
 for dauntless resolution." 
 
 " Our courage is not our own, Colonel," said the divine, " and 
 not as ours should it be vaunted of. And again, when you speak 
 of this strange vision as an impression on my fancy, and not a 
 reality obvious to my senses, let me tell you once more, your 
 worldly wisdom is but foolishness touching the things that are not 
 worldly." 
 
 " Did you not look again upon the mirror ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " I did, when I had copied out the comfortable text, ' Thou 
 shalt tread down Satan under thy feet.' " 
 
 " And what did you then see ? " 
 
 " The reflection of the same Joseph Albany," said Holdenough, 
 "passing slowly as from behind my chair, the same in member 
 and lineament that I had known him in his youth, excepting that 
 his cheek had the marks of the more advanced age at which he 
 died, and was very pale." 
 
 "What did you then?" 
 
 " I turned from the glass, and plainly saw the figure which had 
 made the reflection in the mirror retreating towards the door, not 
 fast, nor slow, but with a gliding, steady pace. It turned again 
 when near the door, and again showed me its pale, ghastly coun- 
 tenance, before it disappeared. But how it left the room, whether 
 by the door, or otherwise, my spirits were too much hurried to re- 
 mark exactly ; nor have I been able, by any effort of recollection, 
 distinctly to remember." 
 
 " This is a strange, and, as coming from you, a most excellently 
 well attested apparition," answered Everard. "And yet, Master 
 Holdenough, if the other world has been actually displayed, as you 
 apprehend, and I will not dispute the possibility, assure yourself 
 there are also wicked men concerned in these machinations. I 
 myself have undergone some rencontres with visitants who pos- 
 sessed bodily strength, and wore, I am sure, earthly weapons." 
 
 " Oh ! doubtless, doubtless," replied Master Holdenough ; "Beel- 
 zebub loves to charge with horse and foot mingled, as was the 
 fashion of the old Scottish general, Davie Leslie. He has his 
 devils in the body as well as his devils disembodied, and uses the 
 one to support and back the other." 
 
 '■ It may be as you say, reverend sir," answered the Colonel.— 
 " But what do you advise in this case ? " 
 
 "For that I must consult with my brethren," said the divine; 
 
WOODSTOCK. 217 
 
 " and if there be but left in our borders five ministers of the true 
 kirk, we will charge Satan in full body, and you shall see whether 
 we have not power over him to resist till he shall flee from us. 
 But failing that ghostly armament against these strange and un- 
 earthly enemies, truly I would recommend, that as a house of 
 witchcraft and abomination, this polluted den of ancient tyranny 
 and prostitution should be totally consumed by fire, lest Satan, 
 establishing his headquarters so much to his mind, should find a 
 garrison and a fastness from which he might sally forth to infest 
 the whole neighbourhood. Certain it is, that I would recommend 
 to no Christian soul to inhabit the mansion ; and, if deserted, it 
 would become a place for wizards to play their pranks, and witches 
 to establish their Sabbath, and those, who, like Demas, go about 
 after the wealth of this world, seeking for gold and silver to practise 
 speUs and charms to the prejudice of the souls of the covetous. 
 Trust me, therefore, it were better that it were spoiled and broken 
 down, not leaving one stone upon another." 
 
 " I say nay to that, my good friend," said the Colonel ; " for the 
 Lord General hath permitted, by his license, [my mother's brother. 
 Sir Henry Lee, and his family, to return into the house of his 
 fathers, being indeed the only roof under which he hath any chance 
 of obtaining shelter for his grey hairs." 
 
 " And was this done by your advice, Markham Everard ? " said 
 the divine, austerely. 
 
 " Certainly it was," returned the Colonel. — " And wherefore 
 should I not exert mine influence to obtain a place of refuge for the 
 brother of my mother .'' " 
 
 " Now, as sure as thy soul liveth," answered the presbyter, " I 
 had believed this from no tongue but thine own. Tell me, was it 
 not this very Sir Henry Lee, who, by the force of his buff-coats and 
 his green-jerkins, enforced the Papist Laic's order to remove the 
 altar to the eastern end of the church at Woodstock ? — and did not 
 he swear by his beard, that he would hang in the very street of 
 Woodstock whoever should deny to drink the King's health ? — and 
 is not his hand red with the blood of the saints ? — and hath there 
 been a ruffler in the field for prelacy and high prerogative more un- 
 mitigable or fiercer ? " 
 
 " All this may have been as you say, good Master Holdenough,'' 
 answered the Colonel ; " but my uncle is now old and feeble, and 
 hath scarce a single follower remaining, and his daughter is a being 
 whom to look upon would make the sternest weep for pity; a being 
 who " 
 
 " Who is dearer to Everard," said Holdenough, "than his good 
 name, his faith to his friends, his duty to his religion ;— this is no 
 time to speak with sugared lips. The paths in which you tread are 
 
2i8 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 dangerous. You are striving to raise the papistical candlestick 
 which Heaven in its justice removed out of its place — to bring back 
 to this hall of sorceries those very sinners who are bewitched with 
 them. I will not permit the land to be abused by their witch- 
 crafts. — They shall not come hither." 
 
 He spoke this with vehemence, and striking his stick against 
 the ground ; and the Colonel, very much dissatisfied, began to ex- 
 press himself haughtily in return. " You had better consider your 
 power to accomplish your threats. Master Holdenough," he said, 
 " before you urge them so pereinptorily." 
 
 " And have I not the power to bind and to loose ? " said the 
 clergyman. 
 
 " It is a power little available, save over those of your own 
 church," said Everard, with a tone something contemptuous. 
 
 " Take heed — take heed," said the divine, who, though an excel- 
 lent, was, as we have elsewhere seen, an irritable man. — " Do not 
 insult me ; but think honourably of the messenger, for the sake of 
 Him whose commission he carries. — Do not, I say, defy me — I am 
 bound to discharge my duty, were it to the displeasing of my twin 
 brother." 
 
 " I can see nought your office has to [do in the matter," said 
 Colonel Everard ; " and I, on my side, give you warning not to 
 attempt to meddle beyond your commission." 
 
 " Right — you hold me already to be as submissive as one of your 
 grenadiers," replied the clergyman, his acute features trembling 
 with a sense of indignity, so as even to agitate his grey hair j "but 
 beware, sir, I am not so powerless as you suppose. I will invoke 
 every true Christian in Woodstock to gird up his loins, and resist 
 the restoration of prelacy, oppression, and malignancy within our 
 borders. I will stir up the wrath of the righteous against the 
 oppressor — the Ishmaelite — the Edmomite — and against his race, 
 and against those who support him and encourage him to rear up 
 his horn. I will call aloud, and spare not, and arouse the many 
 whose love hath waxed cold, and the multitude who care for none 
 of these things. There shall be a remnant to listen to me ; and I 
 will take the stick of Joseph, which was in the hand of Ephraim, 
 and go down to cleanse this place of witches and sorcerers, and of 
 enchantments, and will cry and exhort, saying — Will you plead for 
 Baal ? — will you serve him ? Nay, take the prophets of Baal — ^let 
 not a man escape ! " 
 
 " Master Holdenough, Master Holdenough,'' said Colonel 
 Everard, with much impatience, " by the tale yourself told me, you 
 have exhorted upon that text once too often already." 
 
 The old man struck his palm forcibly against his forehead, and 
 fell back into a chair as these words were uttered, as suddenly, 
 
WOODSTOCK. S19 
 
 and as much without power of resistance, as if the Colonel had fired 
 a pistol through his head. Instantly regretting the reproach which 
 he had suffered to escape him in his impatience, Everard hastened 
 to apologize, and to offer every conciliatory excuse, however incon- 
 sistent, which occurred to him on the moment. But the old man 
 was too deeply affected — he rejected his hand, lent no ear to what 
 he said, and finally started up, saying sternly, " You have abused 
 my confidence, sir — abused it vilely, to turn it into my own re- 
 proach ; had I been a man of the sword, you dared not — But enjoy 
 your triumph, sir, over an old man, and your father's friend — strike 
 at the wound his imprudent confidence showed you." 
 
 " Nay, my worthy and excellent friend," said the Colonel— 
 
 " Friend ! " answered the old man, vehemently — " We are foes, 
 sir — foes now, and for ever ! " 
 
 So saying, and starting from the seat into which he had rather 
 fallen than thrown himself, he ran out of the room with a precipita- 
 tion of step which he was apt to use upon occasions of irritable 
 feeling, and which was certainly more eager than dignified, espe- 
 cially as he muttered while he ran, and seemed as if he were keep- 
 ing up his own passion, by recounting over and over the offence 
 which he had received. 
 
 " Soh ! " said Colonel Everard, " and there was not strife enough 
 between mine uncle and the people of Woodstock already, but I 
 must needs increase it, by chafing this irritable and quick-tempered 
 old man, eager as I knew him to be in his ideas of church-govern- 
 ment, and stiff in his prejudices respecting all who dissent from 
 him ! The mob of Woodstock will rise ; for though he would not 
 get a score of them to stand by him in any honest or intelligible 
 purpose, yet let him cry havoc and destruction, and I will warrant 
 he has followers enow. And my uncle is equally wild and unper- 
 suadable. For the value of all the estate he ever had, he would 
 not allow a score of troopers to be quartered in the house for de- 
 fence ; and if he be alone, or has but Joceline to stand by him, he 
 will be as sure to fire upon those who come to attack the Lodge, 
 as if he had a hundred men in garrison ; and then what can chance 
 but danger and bloodshed ? " 
 
 This progress of melancholy anticipation was interrupted by 
 the return of Master Holdenough, who, hurrying into the room, 
 with the same precipitate pace at which he had left it, ran straight 
 up to the Colonel, and said, " Take my hand, Markham — take my 
 hand hastily ; for the old Adam is whispering at my heart, that it 
 is a disgrace to hold it extended so long." 
 
 " Most heartily do I receive your hand, my venerable friend," 
 said Everard, " and I trust in sign of renewed amity." 
 
 "Surely, surely"— said the divine, shaking his hand kindly; 
 
820 WOODSTOCU. 
 
 " thou hast, it is true, spoken bitterly, but thou hast spoken truth 
 in good time ; and I think — though your words were severe — ^with 
 a good and kindly purpose. Verily, and of a trutli, it were sinful in 
 me again to be hasty in provokingviolence,rememl3ering that which 
 you have upbraided me with " 
 
 " Forgive me, good Master Holdenough," said Colonel Eve- 
 rard " it was a hasty word ; I meant not in serious earnest to 
 upbraid" 
 
 " Peace, I pray you, peace," said the divine ; " I say, the allu- 
 sion to that which you have most justly upbraided me with — 
 though the charge aroused the gall of the Old Man within me, the 
 inward tempter being ever on the watch to bring us to his lure — 
 ought, instead of being resented, to have been acknowledged by 
 me as a favour, for so are the wounds of a friend termed faithful. 
 And surely I, who have by one unhappy exhortation to battle and 
 strife sent the living to the dead — and I fear brought back even the 
 dead among the living — should now study peace and goodwill, and 
 reconciliation of difference, leaving punishment to the Great Being 
 whose laws are broken, and vengeance to Him who hath said, I 
 will repay it." 
 
 The old man's mortified features Kghted up with a humble confi- 
 dence as he made this acknowledgment ; and Colonel Everard, who 
 knew the constitutional infirmities, and the early prejudices of pro- 
 fessional consequence and exclusive party opinion, which he must 
 have subdued ere arriving at such a tone of candour, hastened 
 to express his admiration of his Christian charity, mingled with 
 reproaches on himself for having so deeply injured his feeUngs. 
 
 " Think not of it— think not of it, excellent young man," said 
 Holdenough ; " we have both erred — I in suffering my zeal to out- 
 run my charity, you, perhaps, in pressing hard on an old and peevish 
 man, who had so lately poured out his sufferings into your friendly 
 bosom. Be it all forgotten. Let your friends — if they are not de- 
 terred by what has happened at this manor of Woodstock — resume 
 their habitation as soon as they will. If they can protect themselves 
 against the powers of the air, believe me, that if I can prevent 
 it by aught in my power, they shall have no anJioyance from earthly 
 neighbours ; and assure yourself, good sir, that my voice is still 
 worth something with the worthy Mayor, and the good Aldermen 
 and the better sort of housekeepers up yonder in the town, although 
 the lower classes are blown about with every wind of doctrine 
 And yet farther, be assured. Colonel, that should your mother's 
 brother, or any of his family, learn that they have taken up a rash 
 bargain in returning to this unhappy and unhallowed house, or 
 should they find any qualms in their own hearts and consciences 
 which require a ghostly comforter, Nehemiah Holdenough will be 
 
WOODSTOCK. 221 
 
 as much at their command by night or day, as if they had been 
 bred up within the holy pale of the church in which he is an un- 
 worthy minister ; and neither the awe of what is fearful to be seen 
 within these walls, nor his knowledge of their blinded and carnal 
 state, as bred up under a prelatic dispensation, shall prevent him 
 doing what lies in his poor abilities for their protection and edifi- 
 cation." 
 
 " I feel all the force of your kindness, reverend sir," said Colonel 
 Everard, " but I do not think it likely that my uncle will give you 
 trouble on either score. He is a man much accustomed to be his 
 own protector in temporal danger, and in spiritual doubts to trust 
 to his own prayers and those of his Church." 
 
 " I trust I have not been superfluous in offering mine assistance," 
 said the old man, something jealous that his proffered spiritual aid 
 had been held rather intrusive, " I ask pardon if that is the case 
 — I humbly ask pardon — I would not willingly be superfluous." 
 
 The Colonel hastened to appease this new alarm of the watchful 
 jealousy of his consequence, which, joined with a natural heat of 
 temper which he could not always subdue, were the good man's 
 only faults. 
 
 They had regained their former friendly footing, when Roger 
 Wildrake returned from the hut of Joceline, and whispered his 
 master that his embassy had been successful. The Colonel then 
 addressed the divine, and informed him, that as the Commissioners 
 had already given up Woodstock, and as his uncle. Sir Henry Lee, 
 proposed to return to the Lodge about noon, he would, if his reve- 
 rence pleased, attend him up to the borough. 
 
 " Will you not tarry," said the reverend man, with something like 
 inquisitive apprehension in his voice, " to welcome your relatives 
 upon their return to this their house ? " 
 
 " No, my good friend," said Colonel Everard ; " the part which I 
 have taken in these unhappy broils — perhaps also the mode of wor- 
 ship in which I have been educated — have so prejudiced me in 
 mine uncle's opinion, that I must be for some time a stranger to his 
 house and family." 
 
 " Indeed ! I rejoice to hear it, with all my heart and soul," said 
 the divine. " Excuse my frankness — I do indeed rejoice, — I had 
 thought — no matter what I had thought, — I would not again give 
 offence. But truly though the maiden hath a pleasant feature, 
 and he, as all men say, is in human things unexceptionable, — ^yet — 
 but 1 give you pain — in sooth, I will say no more unless you ask 
 my sincere and unprejudiced advice, which you shall command, 
 but which I will not press on you superfluously. Wend we to the 
 borough together— the pleasant solitude of the forest may dispose us 
 to open our hearts to each other." 
 
222 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 They did walk up to the little town in company, and, somewhat 
 to Master Holdenough's surprise, the Colonel, though they talked 
 on various subjects, did not request of him any ghostly advice on 
 the subject of his love to his fair cousin, while, greatly beyond the 
 expectation of the soldier, the clergyman kept his word, and, in 
 his own phrase, was not so superfluous as to offer upon so delicate a 
 point his unasked counsel. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Then are the harpies gone — ^Yet ere we perch 
 Where such foul birds have roosted, let us cleanse 
 The foul obscenity they've left behind them. 
 
 Agamemnon, 
 
 The embassy of Wildrake had been successful, chiefly through 
 the mediation of the Episcopal divine, whom we formerly found 
 acting in the character of a chaplain to the family, and whose voice 
 had great influence on many accounts with its master. 
 
 A little before high noon. Sir Henry Lee, with his small house- 
 hold, were again in unchallenged possession of their old apartments 
 at the Lodge of Woodstock ; and the combined exertions of Joce- 
 line Joliife, of Phoebe, and of old Joan, were employed in putting to 
 rights what the late intruders had left in great disorder. 
 
 Sir Henry Lee had, like all persons of quality of that period, a 
 love of order amounting to precision, and felt, like a fine lady whose 
 dress has been disordered in a crowd, insulted and humiliated by 
 the rude confusion into which his household goods had been 
 thrown, and impatient till his mansion was purified from aU marks 
 of intrusion. In his anger he uttered more orders than the Umited 
 number of his domestics were likely to find time or hands to exe- 
 cute. " The villains have left such sulphureous steams behind them, 
 too," said the old knight, " as if old Davie Leslie and the whole 
 Scottish army had quartered among them." 
 
 " It may be near as bad," said JoceUne, " for men say, for cer- 
 tain, it was the Devil came down bodily among* them, and made 
 them troop off." 
 
 " Then," said the knight, " is the Prince of Darkness a gentle- 
 man, as old Will Shakspeare says. He never interferes with 
 those of his own coat, for the Lees have been here, father and 
 son, these five hundred years, without disquiet ; and no sooner 
 came these misbegotten churls, than he plays his own part among 
 them." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 223 
 
 " Well, one thing he and they have left us/' said Joliffe, " which 
 we may thank them for ; and that is, such a well-filled larder and 
 buttery as has been seldom seen in Woodstock Lodge this many a 
 day; — carcasses of mutton, large rounds of beef, barrels of confec- 
 tioners' ware, pipes and runlets of sack, muscadine, ale, and what 
 not. We shall have a royal time on't through half the winter ; and 
 Joan must get to salting and pickling presently." 
 
 " Out, villain ! " said the knight ; " are we to feed on the frag- 
 ments of such scum of the earth as these ? — Cast them forth in- 
 stantly ! — Nay," checking himself, " that were a sin ; but give them 
 to the poor, or see them sent to the owners. — And, hark ye, I will 
 none of their strong liquors — I would rather drink like a hermit all 
 my life, than seem to pledge such scoundrels as these in their leav- 
 ings, like a miserable drawer, who drains off the ends of the bottles 
 after the guests have paid their reckoning, and gone off. — And, hark 
 ye, I will taste no water from the cistern out of which these slaves 
 have been serving themselves — fetch me down a pitcher from 
 Rosamond's spring." 
 
 Alice heard this injunction, and well guessing there was enough 
 for the other members of the family to do, she quietly took a small 
 pitcher, and flinging a cloak around her, walked out in person to 
 procure Sir Henry the water which he desired. Meantime, Joceline 
 said, with some hesitation, " that a man still remained, belonging 
 to the party of these strangers, who was directing about the re- 
 moval of some trunks and mails which belonged to the Commis- 
 sioners, and who could receive his honour's commands about the 
 provisions." 
 
 " Let him come hither." — (The dialogue was held in the hall.)— 
 " Why do you hesitate and drumble in that manner ? " 
 
 " Only, sir," said Joceline, " only perhaps your honour might not 
 wish to see him, being the same who, not long since " 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " Sent my rapier a-hawking through the firmament, thou wouldst 
 say ? — Why, when did I take spleen at a man for standing his 
 ground against me ? — Roundhead as he is, man, I like him the 
 better of that, not the worse. I hunger and thirst to have ano- 
 ther turn with him. I have thought on his passado ever since, and 
 I believe, were it to try again, I know a feat would control it. — 
 Fetch him directly." 
 
 Trusty Tomkins was presently ushered in, bearing himself with 
 an iron gravity, which neither the terrors of the preceding night, 
 nor the dignified demeanour of the high-born personage before 
 whom he stood, were able for an instant to overcome. 
 
 " How now, good fellow ? " said Sir Henry ; " I would fain see 
 something more of thy fence, which baffled me the other evening — 
 
834 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 but truly, I think the light was somewhat too faint for my old eyes 
 —Take a foil, man — I walk here in the hall, as Hamlet says ; and 
 'tis the breathing-time of day with me— Take a foil, then, in thy 
 hand." 
 
 " Since it is your worship's desire," said the steward, letting fall 
 his long cloak, and taking the foil in his hand. 
 
 " Now," said the knight, " if your fitness speaks, mine is ready. 
 Methinks the very stepping on this same old pavement hath 
 charmed away the gout which threatened me — Sa — sa — I tread as 
 firm as a game cock ! 
 
 They began the play with great spirit ; and whether the old 
 knight really fought more coolly with the blunt than with the sharp 
 weapon, or whether the steward gave him some grains of advantage 
 in this merely sportive encounter, it is certain Sir Henry had 
 the better in the assault. His success put him into excellent 
 humour. 
 
 " There," said he, " I found your trick — nay, you cheat me not 
 twice the same way — There was a very palpable hit. Why, had I had 
 but light enough the other night — But it skills not speaking of it — 
 Here we leave off. I must not fight, as we unwise cavaliers did 
 with you roundhead rascals, beating you so often that we taught 
 you to beat us at last. — And good now, tell me why you are 
 leaving your larder so full here ? — Do you think I or my family 
 can use broken victuals ? — ^What, have you no better employment 
 for your rounds of sequestrated beef than to leave them behind you 
 when you shift your quarters ? " 
 
 " So please your honour," said Tomkins, " it may be Ihat you 
 desire not the flesh of beeves, of rams, or of goats. Nevertheless, 
 when you know that the provisions were provided and paid for out 
 of your own rents and stock at Ditchley, sequestrated to the use of 
 the state more than a year since, it may be you will have less 
 scruple to use them for your own behoof." 
 
 " Rest assured that I shall," said Sir Henry ; " and glad you 
 have helped me to a share of mine own. Certainly I was an 
 ass to suspect your masters of subsisting, save at honest men's 
 expense," 
 
 " And as for the rumps of beeves," continued Tomkins, with the 
 same solemnity, " there is a rump at Westminster, which will stand 
 us of the army much hacking and hewing yet, ere it is discussed to 
 our mind." 
 
 Sir Henry paused, as if to consider what was the meaning of this 
 innuendo j for he was not a person of very quick apprehension. 
 But having at length caught the meaning of it, he burst into an 
 explosion of louder laughter than Joceline had seen him indulge in 
 for a good while. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 225 
 
 "Right, kixave," he said, "I taste thy jest — It is the very moral 
 of the puppet-show. Faustus raised the devil, as the Pariiament 
 raised the army — and then, as the devil flies away with Faustus, 
 so will the army fly away with the Parliament — or the rump, as 
 thou call'st it, or sitting part of the so-called Parliament. — And 
 then, look you, friend, the very devil of all hath my willing consent 
 to fly away with the army in its turn, from the highest general 
 down to the lowest drum-boy. — Nay, never look fierce for the 
 matter ; remember there is daylight enough now for a game at 
 sharps." 
 
 Trusty Tomkins appeared to think it best to suppress his dis- 
 pleasure ; and observing that the wains were ready to transport 
 the Commissioners' property to the borough, took a grave leave of 
 Sir Henry Lee. 
 
 Meantime the old man continued to pace his recovered hall, 
 rubbing his hands, and evincing greater signs of glee than he had 
 shown since the fatal 30th of January. 
 
 " Here we are again in the old frank, Joliffe — well victualled too. 
 — How the knave solved my point of conscience ! — the dullest of 
 them is a special casuist where the question concerns profit. 
 Look out if there are not some of our own ragged regiment lurking 
 about, to whom a bellyful would be a godsend, Joceline — Then his 
 fence, Joceline — though the fellow foins well — very sufficient weU 
 — But thou saw'st how I dealt with him when I had fitting light, 
 Joceline?" 
 
 " Ay, and so your honour did," said Joceline. " You taught him 
 to know the Duke of Norfolk from Saunders Gardner. I'll 
 warrant him he will not wish to come under your honour's thumb 
 again." 
 
 " Why, I am waxing old," said Sir Henry ; " but skill will not 
 rust through age, though sinews must stiffen. But my age is like 
 a lusty winter, as old Will says — frosty but kindly — And what if, 
 old as we are, we live to see better days yet ! I promise thee, 
 Joceline, I love this jarring betwixt the rogues of the board and 
 the rogues of the sword. When thieves quarrel, true men have a 
 chance of coming by their own." 
 
 Thus triumphed the old cavalier, in the treble glory of having 
 recovered his dwelling — regained, as he thought, his character as 
 a man of fence, and finally, discovered some prospect of a change 
 of times, in which he was not without hopes that something might 
 turn up for the royal interest. 
 
 Meanwhile, Alice, with a prouder and a lighter heart than had 
 danced in her bosom for several days, went forth with a gaj?ty to 
 which she of late had been a stranger, to contribute her assistance 
 
 Q 
 
2s6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 to the regulation and supply of the household, by bringing the 
 fresh water wanted from fair Rosamond's well. 
 
 Perhaps she remembered, that when she was. but a girl, her 
 cousin Markham used, among others, to make her perform that 
 duty, as presenting the character of some captive Trojan princess, 
 condemned by her situation to draw the waters from some Grecian 
 spring, for the use of the proud victor. At any rate, she certainly 
 joyed to see her father reinstated in his ancient habitation ; and 
 the joy was not the less sincere, that she knew their return to 
 Woodstock had been procured by means of her cousin, and that 
 even in her father's prejudiced eyes, Everard had been in some 
 degree exculpated of the accusations the old knight had brought 
 against him ; and that, if a reconciliation had not yet taken place, 
 the preliminaries had been established on which such a desirable 
 conclusion might easily be founded. It was like the commence- 
 ment of a bridge ; when the foundation is securely laid, and the 
 piers raised above the influence of the torrent, the throwing of the 
 arches may be accomplished in a subsequent season. 
 
 The doubtful fate of her only brother might have ciouded even 
 this momentary gleam of sunshine ; but Alice had been bred up 
 during the close and frequent contests of civil war, and had 
 acquired the habit of hoping in behalf of those dear to her, until 
 hope was lost. In the present case, all reports seemed to assure 
 her of her brother's safety. 
 
 Besides these causes for gaiety, Alice Lee had the pleasing 
 feeling that she was restored to the habitation and the haunts of 
 her childhood, from which she had not departed without much 
 pain, the more felt, perhaps, because suppressed, in order to avoid 
 irritating her father's sense of his misfortune. Finally, she enjoyed 
 for the instant the gleam of self-satisfaction by which we see the 
 young and well-disposed so often animated, when they can be, 
 in common phrase, helpful to those whom they love, and perform 
 at the moment of need some of those little domestic tasks, which age 
 receives with so much pleasure from the dutiful hands of youth. 
 So that, altogether, as she hasted through the remains and vestiges 
 of a wilderness already mentioned, and from thence about a bow- 
 shot into the Park, to bring & pitcher of water from Rosamond's 
 spring, Alice Lee, her features enlivened and her complexion a 
 little raised. by the exercise, had, for the moment, regained the 
 gay and brilliant vivacity of expression which had been the 
 characteristic of her beauty in her earlier and happier days. . 
 
 This fountain of old memory had been once adorned with 
 architectural ornaments in the style of the sixteenth century, 
 chiefly relating to ancient mythology. . All these were now wasted 
 and overthrown, and existed only as moss-covered ruins, while 
 
WOODSTOCK. 227 
 
 the living spring continued to furnish its daily treasures, un- 
 rivalled in purity, though the quantity was small, gushing out 
 amid disjointed stones, and bubbling through fragments of ancient 
 sculpture. 
 
 With a light step and laughing brow the young Lady of Lee was 
 approaching the fountain usually so solitary, when she paused on 
 beholding some one seated beside it. She proceeded, however, 
 with confidence, though with a step something less gay, when she 
 observed that the person was a female ; — some menial perhaps 
 from the town, whom a fanciful mistress occasionally dispatched 
 for the water of a spring, supposed to be peculiarly pure, or some 
 aged woman, who made a little trade by carrying it to the better 
 sort of families, and selling it for a triile. There was no cause, 
 therefore, for apprehension. 
 
 Yet the terrors of the times were so great, that Alice did not see 
 a stranger even of her own sex without some apprehension. De- 
 naturalized women had as usual followed the camps of both armies 
 during the Civil War ; who, on the one side with open profligacy 
 and profanity, on the other with the fraudful tone of fanaticism or 
 hypocrisy, exercised nearly in like degree their talents for murder 
 or plunder. But it was broad daylight, the distance from the Lodge 
 was but trifling, and though a little alarmed at seeing a stranger 
 where she expected deep solitude, the daughter of the haughty old 
 Knight had too much of the lion about her, to fear without some 
 determined and decided cause. 
 
 Alice walked, therefore, gravely on towards the fount, and com- 
 posed her looks as she took a hasty glance of the female who 
 was seated there, and addressed herself to her task of filling her 
 pitcher 
 
 The woman, whose presence had surprised and somewhat startled 
 Alice Lee, was a person of the lower rank, whose red cloak, russet 
 kirtle, handkerchief trimmed with Coventry blue, and a coarse 
 steeple hat, could not indicate at best any thing higher than the 
 wife of a small farmer, or, perhaps, the helpmate of a bailiff or 
 hind. It was well if she proved nothing worse. Her clothes, 
 indeed, were of good materials ; but, what the female eye discerns 
 with half a glance, they were indifferently adjusted and put on. 
 This looked as if they did not belong to the person by whom they 
 were worn, but were articles of which she had become the mistress 
 by some accident, if not by some successful robbery. Her size, too, 
 as did not escape AUce, even in the short perusal she afforded the 
 stranger, was unusual ; her features swarthy and singularly harsh, 
 and her manner altogether unpropitious. The young lady almost 
 wished, as she stooped to fill her pitcher, that she had rather 
 turned back, and sent Joceline on the errand ; but repentance was 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 too late now, and she had only to disguise as well as she could her 
 unpleasant feelings. 
 
 " The blessings of this bright day to one as bright as it is ! " said 
 the stranger, with no unfriendly, though a harsh voice. 
 
 " I thank you," said Alice in reply ; and continued to fill her 
 pitcher busily, by assistance of an iron bowl which remained still 
 chained to one of the stones beside the fountain. 
 
 " Perhaps, my pretty maiden, if you would accept my help, your 
 work would be sooner done," said the stranger. 
 
 " I thank you," said Alice ; " but had I needed assistance, I 
 could have brought those with me who had rendered it." 
 
 " I do not doubt of that, my pretty maiden," answered the 
 female; "there are too many lads in Woodstock with eyes in 
 their heads — No doubt you could have brought with you any one 
 of them who looked on you, if you had listed ?" 
 
 Alice replied not a syllable, for she did not like the freedom 
 used by the speaker, and was desirous to break off the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " Are you offended, my pretty mistress ? " said the stranger ; 
 " that was far from my purpose. — I will put my question otherwise 
 — Are the good dames of Woodstock so careless of their pretty 
 daughters as to let the flower of them all wander about the wild 
 chase without a mother, or a somebody to prevent the fox from 
 runningaway with the lamb.'' — that carelessness, methinks, shows 
 small kindness." 
 
 "Content yourself, good woman, I am not far from protection 
 and assistance," said Alice, who liked less and less the effrontery 
 of her new acquaintance. 
 
 " Alas ! my pretty maiden," said the stranger, patting with her 
 large and hard hand the head which Alice Jiad kept bended down 
 towards the water which she was laving, " it would be difficult to 
 hear such a pipe as yours at the town of Woodstock, scream as 
 loud as you would." 
 
 Alice shook the woman's hand angrily off, took up her pitcher, 
 though not above half full, a&d as she saw the strangei: rise at the 
 same time, said, not without fear doubtless, but with a natural 
 feeling of resentment and dignity, " I have no reason to make my 
 cries heard as far as Woodstock ; were there occasion for my 
 crying for help at all, it is nearer at hand." 
 
 She spoke not without a warrant ; for, at the moment, broke 
 through the bushes, and stood by her side, the noble hound Bevis ; 
 fixing on the stranger his eyes that glanced fire, raising every hah: 
 on his gallant main as upright as the bristles of- a wild boar when 
 hard pressed, grinning till a case of teeth, which would have 
 matched those of any wolf in Russia, were displayed in full array, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 229 
 
 and, without either barking or springing, seeming, by his low de- 
 termined growl, to await but the signal for dashing at the female, 
 whom he plainly considered as a suspicious person. 
 
 But the stranger was undaunted. " My pretty maiden," she 
 said, " you have indeed a formidable guardian there, where cock- 
 neys or bumpkins are concerned ; but we who have been at the 
 wars know spells for taming such furious dragons ; and therefore 
 let not your four-footed protector go loose on me, for he is a noble 
 animal, and nothing but self-defence would induce me to do him 
 injury." So saying, she drew a pistol from her bosom, and cocked 
 it — pointing it towards the dog, as if apprehensive that he would 
 spring upon her. 
 
 " Hold, woman, hold ! " said Alice Lee ; " the dog will not do 
 you harm.— Down, Bevis, couch down — And ere you attempt to 
 hurt him, know he is the favourite hound of Sir Henry Lee of 
 Ditchley, the keeper of Woodstock Park, who would severely 
 revenge any injury offered to him." 
 
 " And you, pretty one, are th^ old knight's housekeeper, doubt- 
 less ? I have often heard the Lees have good taste." 
 
 " I am his daughter, good woman," 
 
 " His daughter ! — I was blind — ^but yet it is true, nothing lesa 
 perfect could answer the description which all the world has given 
 of Mistress Alice Lee. I trust that my folly has given my young 
 mistress no offence, and that she will allow me, in token of 
 reconciliation, to fiU her pitcher, and carry it as far as she will 
 permit." 
 
 " As you will, good mother ; but I am about to return instantly 
 to the Lodge, to which, in these times, I cannot admit strangers. 
 You can follow me no farther than the verge of the wilderness, and 
 I am already too long from home : I will send some one to meet 
 and relieve you of the pitcher." So saying, she turned her back, 
 with a feeling of terror which she could hardly account for, and 
 began to walk quickly towards the Lodge, thinking thus to get rid 
 of her troublesome acquaintance. 
 
 But she reckoned without her host ; for in a moment her new 
 companion was by her side, not running, indeed, but walking with 
 prodigious long unwomanly strides, which soon b^^ought her up 
 with the hurried and timid steps of the frightened maiden. But 
 her manner was more respectful than formerly, though her voice 
 sounded remarkably harsh and disagreeable,, and her whole 
 appearance suggested an undefined, yet irresistible feeling of- 
 apprehension. 
 
 " Pardon a stranger, lovely Mistress Alice," said her persecutor, 
 " that was not capable of distinguishing between a lady of your 
 high quality and a peasant wench, and who spoke to you with a 
 
430 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 degree of freedom, ill-befitting your rank,' certainly, and condition, 
 and which, I fear, has given you offence." 
 
 " No offence whatever," replied Alice ; " but, good woman, I 
 am near home, and can excuse your farther company. — ^You are 
 unknown to me." 
 
 " But it follows not," said the stranger, " th.a.t your fortunes may 
 not be known to me, fair Mistress Alice. Look on my swarthy 
 brow — England breeds none such — and in the lands from which 
 I come, the sun which blackens our complexion, pours, to make 
 amends, rays of knowledge into our brains, which are denied to 
 'those of your lukewarm climate. Let me look upon your pretty 
 hand, — [attempting to possess herself of it,] — and I promise you, 
 you shall hear what will please you." 
 
 " I hear what does noi please me," said Alice, with dignity ; 
 " you must carry your tricks of fortune-telling and palmistry to 
 the women of the village — We of the gentry hold them to be either 
 imposture or unlawful knowledge." 
 
 " Yet you would fain hear of a certain Colonel, I warrant you, 
 whom certain unhappy circumstances have separated from his 
 family ; you would give better silver if I could assure you that you 
 would see him in a day or two — ay, perhaps sooner." 
 
 " I know nothing of what you speak, good woman ; if you want 
 alms, there is a piece of silver — it is all I have in my purse." 
 
 " It were pity that I should take it," said the female ; " and yet 
 give it me — for the princess in the fairy-tale must ever deserve, by 
 her generosity, the bounty of the benevolent fairy, before she is 
 rewarded by her protection." 
 
 " Take it— take it— give me my pitcher," said Alice, " and be- 
 gone, — yonder comes one of my father's servants. — What, ho ! — 
 Joceline — Joceline ! " 
 
 The old fortune-teller hastily dropped something into the pitcher 
 as she restored it to AUce Lee, and, plying her long limbs, disap- 
 peared speedily under cover of the wood. 
 
 Bevis turned, and backed, and showed some inclination to harass 
 the retreat of this suspicious person, yet, as if uncertain, ran to- 
 wards Joliffe, and fawned on him, as to demand his advice and 
 encouragement. Joceline pacified the animal, and coming up to 
 his young lady, asked her, with surprise, what was the matter, and 
 whether she had been frightened ? Alice made light of her alarm, 
 for which, indeed, she could not have assigned any very competent 
 reason, for the manners of the woman, though bold and intrusive, 
 were not menacing. She only said she had met a fortune-teller by 
 Rosamond's Well, and had had some difficulty in shaking her off. 
 
 "Ah, the gipsy thief," said Joceline, "how well she scented there 
 was food in the pantry ! — they have noses like ravens these strollers 
 
WOODSTOCK. 231 
 
 Look you, Mistress Alice, you shall not see a raven, or a carrion- 
 crow, in all the blue sky for a mile round you ; but let a sheep drop 
 suddenly down on the greensward, and before the poor creature's 
 dead you shall see a dozen of such guests croaking, as if inviting 
 each other to the banquet. — Just so it is with those sturdy beggars. 
 You will see few enough of them when there's nothing to give, but 
 when hough's in the pot, they will have share on't." 
 
 " You are so proud of your fresh supply of provender," said Alice, 
 " that you suspect all of a design on't. I do not think this woman 
 will venture near your kitchen, Joceline." 
 
 " It will be best for her health," said Joceline, " lest I give her a 
 ducking for digestion. — But give me the pitcher, Mistress Alice— 
 meeter I bear it than you. — How now? what jingles at the bottom? 
 have you lifted the pebbles as well as the water ? " 
 
 " I think the woman dropped something into the pitcher," said 
 Alice. 
 
 " Nay, we must look to that, for it is like to be a charm, and we 
 have enough of the devil's ware about Woodstock already — we will 
 not spare for the water — I can run back and fill the pitcher." He 
 poured out the water upon the grass, and at the bottom of the pitcher 
 was found a gold ring, in which was set a ruby, apparently of some 
 value. 
 
 " Nay, if this be not enchantment, I know not what is," said 
 Joceline. " Truly, Mistress Alice, I think you had better throw 
 away this gimcrack. Such gifts from such hands are a kind of 
 press-money which the devil uses for enlisting his regiment of 
 witches ; and if they take but so much as a bean from him, they 
 become his bond slaves for life — Ay, you look at the gewgaw, but 
 to-morrow you will find a lead ring and a common pebble in its 
 stead." 
 
 " Nay, Joceline, I think it will be better to find out that dark- 
 complexioned woman, and return to her what seems of some value. 
 So, cause enquiry to be made, and be sure you return her ring. It 
 seems too valuable to be destroyed." 
 
 " Umph ! that is always the way with women," murmured Joceline. 
 " You will never get the best of them, but she is willing to save a 
 bit of finery. — ^Well, Mistress Alice, I trust that you are too young 
 and too pretty to be enlisted in a regiment of witches." 
 
 " I shall not be afraid of it till you turn conjurer," said Alice ; " so 
 hasten to the well, where you are like still to find the woman, and 
 let her know that Alice Lee desires none of her gifts, any more 
 than she did of her society." 
 
 So saying, the young lady pursued her way to the Lodge, while 
 Joceline went down to Rosamond's Well to execute her com- 
 mission. But the fortune-teller, or whoever she might be, was 
 
232. 
 
 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 nowhere to be found ; neither, finding that to be the case, did 
 Joceline give himself much trouble in tracking her farther. 
 
 " If this ring, which I dare say the jade stole somewhere," said 
 the under-keeper to himself, " be worth a few nobles, it is better 
 in honest hands than in those of vagabonds. My master has a 
 right to all waifs and strays, and certainly such a ring, in pos- 
 session of a gipsy, must be a waif. So I shall confiscate it without 
 scruple, and apply the produce to the support of Sir Henry's house- 
 hold, which is like to be poor enough. Thank Heaven, my military 
 experience has taught me how to carry hooks at my finger-ends — 
 that is trooper's law. Yet, hang it, after all, I had best take it to 
 Mark Everard, and ask his advice — I hold him now to be your 
 learned counsellor in law where Mistress Alice's affairs are con- 
 cerned, and my learned Doctor, who shall be nameless, for such 
 as concern Church and State and Sir Henry Lee— And I'll give 
 them leave to give mine umbles to the kites and ravens if they find 
 me conferring my confidence where it is not safe." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Being skilless in these parts, which, to a stranger, 
 Unguided and unfriended, often prove 
 Rough and inhospitable. 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 There was a little attempt at preparation, now that the dinner 
 hour was arrived, which showed that, in the opinion of his few but 
 faithful domestics, the good knight had returned in triumph to his 
 home. 
 
 The great tankard, exhibiting in bas-relief the figure of Michael 
 subduing the arch enemy, was placed on the table, and Joceline 
 and Phoebe dutifully attended ; the one behind the chair of Sir 
 Henry, the other to wait upon her young mistress, and both to make 
 out, by formal and regular observance, the want of a more 
 numerous train. 
 
 " A health to King Charles ! " said the old knight, handing the 
 massive tankard to his daughter ; " drink it, my love, though it be 
 rebel ale which they have left us. I will pledge thee ; for the toast 
 will excuse the liquor, had Noll himself brewed it." 
 
 The young lady touched the goblet with her lip, and returned it 
 to her father,- who took a copious draught. 
 
 " I will not say blessing on their hearts,'' said he-; " though I 
 must own they drank good ale." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 233 
 
 " No wonder, sir ; they come lightly by the malt, and need not 
 spare it," said Joceline. 
 
 " Say'st thou ?" said the knight; "thou shalt finish the tankard 
 thyself for that very jest's sake." Nor was his follower slow in 
 doing reason to the royal pledge. He bowed, and replaced the 
 tankard, saying, after a triumphant glance at the sculpture, " I had 
 a gibe with that same red-coat about the Saint Michael just 
 now." 
 
 " Red-coat — ha ! what red-coat ? " said the hasty old man. " Do 
 any of these knaves still lurk about Woodstock ? — Quoit him down 
 stairs instantly, Joceline. — Know we not Galloway nags ? " 
 
 " So please you, he is in some charge here, and will speedily be 
 gone. — It is he — he who had a rencontre with your honour in the 
 wood." 
 
 " Ay, but I paid him off for it in the hall, as you yourself saw. I 
 was never in better fence in my life, Joceline. That same steward 
 fellow is not so utterly black-hearted a rogue as the most of them, 
 Joceline. He fences well — excellent well. I will have thee try a 
 bout in the hall with him to-morrow, though I think he will be too 
 hard for thee. I know thy strength to an inch." 
 
 He might say this with some truth ; for it was Joceline's fashion, 
 when called on, as sometimes happened, to fence with his patron, 
 just to put forth as much of his strength and skill as obliged the 
 Knight to contend hard for the victory, which, in the long run, he 
 always contrived to yield up to him, like a discreet serving-man. 
 
 " And what said this roundheaded steward of our great Saint 
 Michael's standing cup ? " 
 
 " Marry, he scoffed at our good saint, and said he was little 
 better than one of the golden calves of Bethel. But I told him he 
 should not talk so, until one of their own roundheaded saints had 
 given the devil as complete a crossbuttock as Saint Michael had 
 given him, as 'tis carved upon the cup there. I trow that made 
 him silent enough. And then he would loiow whether your honour 
 and Mistress Alice, not to mention old Joan and myself, since it is 
 your honour's pleasure I should take my bed here, were not afraid 
 to sleep in a house that had been so much disturbed. But I 
 told him we feared no fiends or goblins, having the prayers of 
 the church read every evening." 
 
 " Joceline," said Alice, interrupting him, " wert thou mad ? You 
 know at what risk to ourselves and the good doctor the perform- 
 ance of that duty takes place." 
 
 " Oh, Mistress Alice," said Joceline, a little abashed, " you may 
 be sure I spoke not a word of the doctor — No, no — I did not let 
 him into the secret that we had such a reverend chaplain. — I think 
 I know the length of this man's foot. We have had a jollification 
 
234 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 or so together. He is hand and glove with me, for as great a 
 fanatic as he is." 
 
 " Trust him not too far," said the knight. " Nay, I fear thou 
 hast been imprudent already, and that it will be unsafe for the good 
 man to come here after nightfall, as is proposed. These Indepen- 
 dents have noses like bloodhounds, and can smell out a loyalist 
 under any disguise." 
 
 " If your honour thinks so," said Joceline, " I'll watch for the 
 doctor with good-will, and bring him into the Lodge by the old 
 condemned postern, and so up to this apartment ; and sure this 
 man Tomkins would never presume to come hither; and the 
 doctor may have a bed in Woodstock Lodge, and he never the 
 wiser ; or, if your honour does not think that safe, I can cut his 
 throat for you, and I would not mind it a pin." 
 
 " God forbid ! " said the knight. " He is under our roof, and a 
 guest, though not an invited one. — Go, Joceline ; it shall be thy 
 penance, for having given thy tongue too much license, to watch 
 for the good doctor, and to take care of his safety while he continues 
 with us. An October night or two in the forest would iinish the 
 good man." 
 
 " He is more like to finish our October than our October is to 
 finish him," said the keeper ; and withdrew under the encourag- 
 ing smile of his patron. 
 
 He whistled Bevis along with him .to share in his watch ; and 
 having received exact information where the clergyman was most 
 likely to be found, assured his master that he would give the most 
 pointed attention to his safety. When the attendants had with- 
 drawn, having previously removed the remains of the meal, the 
 old knight, leaning back in his chair, encouraged pleasanter visions 
 than had of late passed through his imagination, until by degrees 
 he was surprised by actual slumber ; while his daughter, not 
 venturing to move but on tiptoe, took some needlework, and bring- 
 ing it close by the old man's side, employed her fingers on this 
 task, bending her eyes from time to time on her parent, with the 
 aifectionate zeal, if not the effective power, of a guardian angel. 
 At length, as the light faded away, and night came on, she was 
 about to order candles to be brought. But, remembering how in- 
 different a couch Joceline's cottage had afforded, she could not 
 think of interrupting the first sound and refreshing sleep which her 
 father had enjoyed, in all probability, for the last two nights and days. 
 
 She herself had no other amusement, as she sat facing one of the 
 great oriel windows, the same by which Wildrake had on a former 
 occasion looked in upon Tomkins and Joceline while at their com- 
 potations, than watching the clouds, which a lazy wind sometimes 
 chased from the broad disk of the harvest-moon, sometimes per- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 23s 
 
 mitted to accumulate, and exclude her brightness. There is, I 
 know not why, something peculiarly pleasing to the imagination, in 
 contemplating the Queen- of Night, when she is wading, as the 
 expression is, among the vapours which she has not power to dispel, 
 and which on their side are unable entirely to quench her lustre. 
 It is the striking image of patient virtue, calmly pursuing her path 
 through good report and bad report, having that excellence in her- 
 self which ought to command all admiration, but bedimmed in the 
 eyes of the world, by suffering, by misfortune, by calumny. 
 
 As some such reflections, perhaps, were passing through Alice's 
 imagination, she became sensible, to her surprise and alarm, that 
 some one had clambered up upon the window, and was looking 
 into the room. The idea of supernatural fear did not in the 
 slightest degree agitate Alice. She was too much accustomed to 
 the place and situation ; for folk do not see spectres in the scenes 
 with which they have been familiar from infancy. But danger from 
 marauders in a disturbed country was a more formidable subject of 
 apprehension, and the thought armed Alice, who was naturally 
 high-spirited, with such desperate courage, that she snatched a 
 pistol from the wall, on which some fire-arms hung, and while she 
 screamed to her father to awake, had the presence of mind to pre- 
 sent it at the intruder. She did so the more readily, because she 
 imagined she recognised in the visage, which she partially saw, the 
 features of the woman whom she had met with at Rosamond's 
 Well, and which had appeared to her peculiarly harsh and sus- 
 picious. Her father at the same time seized his sword and came 
 forward, while the person at the window, alarmed at these demon- 
 strations, and endeavouring to descend, missed footing, as had 
 Cavaliero Wildrake before, and went down to the earth with no 
 small noise. Nor was the reception on the bosom of our common 
 mother either soft or safe ; for, by a most terrific bark and growl, 
 they heard that Bevis had come up and seized on the party, ei'e he 
 or she could gain their feet. 
 
 " Hold fast, but worry not," said the old knight. — " Alice, thou 
 art the queen of wenches 1 Stand fast here till I run down and 
 secure the rascal." 
 
 " For God's sake, no, my dearest father ! " Alice exclaimed ; 
 " Joceline will be up immediately — Hark ! — I hear him." 
 
 There was indeed a bustle below, and more than one light danced 
 to and fro in confusion, while those who bore them called to each 
 other, yet suppressing their voices as they spoke, as men who 
 would only be heard by those they addressed. The individual who 
 had fallen under the power of Bevis was most impatient in his 
 situation, and called with least precaution, — " Here, Lee — Forester 
 ^take the dog off, else I must shoot him ! " 
 
236 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "If thou dost," said Sir Henry from the window, "I blow thy 
 brains out on the spot — Thieves, Joceline, thieves ! come up and 
 secure this ruffian. — Bevis, hold on ! " 
 
 " Back, Bevis ; down, sir," cried Joceline. — " I am coming, I am 
 coming, Sir Henry — Saint Michael, I shall go distracted ! " 
 
 A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Alice, — could Joceline 
 have become unfaithful, that he was calling Bevis off the villain, 
 instead of encouraging the trusty dog to secure him ? Her father, 
 meantime, moved perhaps by some suspicion of the same kind, 
 hastily stepped aside out of the moonlight, and pulled Alice close 
 to him, so as to be invisible from without, yet so placed as to hear 
 what should pass. The scuffle between Bevis and his prisoner 
 seemed to be ended by Jaceline's interference, and there was close 
 whispering for an instant, as of people in consultation 
 
 " AH is quiet now," said one voice ; " I will up and prepare the 
 way for you." — And immediately a form presented itself on the out- 
 side of the window, pushed open the lattice, and sprung into the 
 parlour. But almost ere his step was upon the floor, certainly before 
 he had obtained any secure footing, the old knight, who stood ready 
 with his rapier drawn, made a desperate pass, which bore the in- 
 truder to the ground. Joceline, who clambered up next with a dark 
 lantern in his hand, uttered a dreadful exclamation, when he saw 
 what had happened, crying out, " Lord in Heaven, he has slain 
 his own son ! " 
 
 " No, no — I tell you no," said the fallen young man, who was 
 indeed young Albert Lee, the only son of the old knight — " I am 
 not hurt. — No noise, on your lives — get lights instantly." At the 
 same time, he started from the floor as quickly as he could, under 
 the embarrassment of a cloak and doublet skewered as it were 
 together by the rapier of the old knight, whose pass, most fortu- 
 nately, had been diverted from the body of Albert by the interrup- 
 tion of his cloak, the blade passing right across his back, piercing 
 the clothes, while the hilt coming against his side with the whole 
 force of the lounge, had borne him to the ground. 
 
 Joceline all the while enjoined silence to every one, under the 
 strictest conjurations. " Silence, as you would long live on earth 
 — silence, as you would have a place in Heaven, — ^be but silent for 
 a few minutes— all our lives depend on it." 
 
 Meantime he procured lights with inexpressible dispatch, and 
 they then beheld that Sir Henry, on hearing the fatal words, had 
 sunk back on one of the large chairs, without either motion, colour, 
 or sign of life. 
 
 " Oh, brother, how could you come in this manner ? " said 
 Alice. 
 
 "Ask no questions— Good God ! for what am I reserved ! " He 
 
WOODSTOCK. 237 
 
 gazed on his father as he spoke, who, with clay-cold features 
 rigidly fixed, and his arms extended in the most absolute helpless- 
 ness, looked rather the image of death upon a monument, than a 
 being in whom existence was only suspended. "Was my life 
 spared," said Albert, raising his hands with a wild gesture to 
 Heaven, "only to witness such a sight as this ! " 
 
 " We suffer what Heaven permits, young man — we endure our 
 lives while Heaven continues them. Let me approach." The same 
 clergyman who had read the prayers at Joceline's hut now came 
 forward. " Get water," he said, " instantly." And the helpful hand 
 and light foot of Alice, with the ready-witted tenderness which 
 never stagnates in vain lamentations while there is any room for 
 hope, provided with incredible celerity all that the clergyman called 
 for. 
 
 " It is but a swoon," he said, on feeling Sir Henry's palm, — "a 
 swoon produced from the instant and unexpected shock. Rouse 
 thee up, Albert ; I promise thee it will be nothing save a syncope — 
 A cup, my dearest Alice, and a riband, or a bandage — I must take 
 some blood — some aromatics, too, if they can be had, my good 
 Alice." 
 
 But while Alice procured the cup and bandage, stripped her 
 father's sleeve, and seemed by intuition even to anticipate every 
 direction of the reverend doctor, her brother, hearing no word, and 
 seeing no sign of comfort, stood with both hands clasped and 
 elevated into the air, a monument of speechless despair. Every 
 feature in his face seemed to express the thought, here lies my 
 father's corpse, and it is I whose rashness has slain him ! " 
 
 But when a few drops of blood began to follow the lancet — at 
 first falling singly, and then trickling in a freer stream — when, in 
 consequence of the application of cold water to the temples, and 
 aromatics to the nostrils, the old man sighed feebly, and made an 
 effort to move his limbs, Albert Lee changed his posture, at once 
 to throw himself at the feet of the clergyman, and kiss, if he would 
 have permitted him, his shoes and the hem of his raiment. 
 
 " Rise, foolish youth," said the good man, with a reproving tone ; 
 " must it be always thus with you .'' — Kneel to Heaven, not to the 
 feeblest of its agents. You have been saved once again from great 
 danger — would you deserve Heaven's bounty, remember you have 
 been preserved for other purposes than you now think on. Begone 
 you and Joceline, you have a duty to discharge ; and be assured it 
 will go better with your father's recovery that he see you not for 
 a few minutes. Down — down to the wilderness, and bring in your 
 attendant." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks, a thousand thanks," answered Albert Lee ; 
 and, springing through the lattice, he disappeared as unexpectedly 
 
238 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 as he had entered — At the same time Joceline followed him, and 
 by the same road. 
 
 Alice, whose fears for her father were now something abated, 
 upon this new movement among the persons of the scene, could not 
 resist appealing to her venerable assistant. " Good doctor, answer 
 me but one question — was my brother Albert here just now, or 
 have I dreamed all that has happened for these ten minutes past .'' 
 Methinks, but for your presence, I could suppose the whole had 
 passed in my sleep — that horrible thrust — that death-like, corpse- 
 like old man— that soldier in mute despair — I inust indeed have 
 dreamed." 
 
 " If you have dreamed, my sweet Alice," said the doctor, " I wish 
 every sicknurse had your property ,',siiice you have been attending to 
 our patient better during your sleep, than most of these old dormice 
 can do when they are most awake. But your dream came through 
 the gate of horn, my pretty darling, which you must remind me to 
 explain to you at leisure. Albert has really been here, and will 
 be here again." 
 
 " Albert ! " repeated Sir Henry, " who names my son ? " 
 
 " It is I, my kind patron," said the doctor ; " permit me to bind 
 up your arm." 
 
 " My wound ? — with all my heart, doctor," said Sir Henry, 
 raising himself, and gathering his recollection by degrees. " I knew 
 of old thou wert body-curer as well as soul-curer, and served my 
 regiment for surgeon as well as chaplain. — But where is the rascal 
 I killed .' — I never made a fairer strama^on in my life. The shell 
 of my rapier struck against his ribs. So dead he must be, or my 
 right hand has forgot its cunning." 
 
 " Nobody was slain," said the doctor ; "we must thank God for 
 that, since there were none but friends to slay. Here is a good cloak 
 and doublet, though, wounded in a fashion which will require some 
 skill in tailor-craft to cure. But I was your last antagonist, and 
 took a little blood from you, merely to prepare you for the pleasure 
 and surprise of seeing your son, who, though hunted pretty close, 
 as you may believe, hath made his way from Worcester hither, 
 where, with Joceline's assistance, we will care well enough for his 
 safety. It was even for this reason that I pressed you to accept of 
 your nephew's proposal to return to the old Lodge, where a 
 hundred men might be concealed, though a thousand were making 
 search to discover them. Never such a place for hide-and-seek, 
 as I shall make good when I can find means to publish my Wonders 
 of Woodstock," 
 
 " But, my son — my dear son," said the knight, " shall I not then 
 instantly see him ? and wherefore did you not forewarn me of this 
 joyful event ? " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 239 
 
 " Because I was uncertain of his motions," said the doctor, " and 
 rather thought he was bound for the sea-side, and that it would be 
 best to tell you of his fate when he was safe on board, and in full 
 sail for France. We had appointed to let you know all when I 
 came hither to-night to join you. But there is a red-coat in the 
 house whom we care not to trust farther than we could not help. 
 We dared not, therefore, venture in by the hall ; and so, prowling 
 round the building, Albert informed us, that an old prank of his, 
 when a boy, consisted of entering by this window. A lad who was 
 with us would needs make the experiment, as there seemed to be 
 no light in the chamber, and the moonlight without made us liable 
 to be detected. His foot slipped, and our friend Bevis came upon 
 us." 
 
 " In good truth, you acted simply,'' said Sir Henry, " to attack 
 a garrison without a^ summons. But all this is nothing to my son 
 Albert — where is he ? — Let me see him." 
 
 " But, Sir Henry, wait," said the doctor, " till your restored 
 strength " 
 
 "A plague of my restored strength,- man ! "answered the knight, 
 as his old spirit began to awaken within him. — " Dost not re- 
 member, that I lay on EdgehiU-field all night, bleeding like a 
 bullock from five several wounds, and wore my armour within six 
 weeks ? and you talk to me of the few drops of blood that follow 
 such a scratch as a cat's claw might have made ! " 
 
 " Nay, if you feel so courageous," said the doctor, " I wiU fetch 
 your son — ^he is not far distant." 
 
 So saying, he left the apartment, making a sign to Alice to 
 remain, in case any symptoms of her father's weakness should 
 return. 
 
 It was fortunate, perhaps, that Sir Henry never seemed to re- 
 collect the precise nature of the alarm, which had at once, and 
 effectually as the shock of the thunderbolt^ for the moment 
 suspended his faculties. Something he said more than once of 
 being certain he had done mischief with that stramaqon, as 
 he called it ; but his mind did not recur to that danger, as having 
 been incurred by his son. Alice, glad to see that her father 
 appeared to have forgotten a circumstance so fearful, (as men often 
 forget the blow, or other sudden cause, which has thrown them 
 into a swoon,) readily excused herself from throwing much light 
 on the matter, by pleading the general confusion. And in a few 
 minutes, Albert cut off all farther enquiry, by entering the room, 
 followed by the doctor, and throwing himself alternately into the 
 arms of his father and of his sister. 
 
240 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The boy is — hark ye, sirrah — what's your name ? 
 Oh, Jacob — ay, I recollect — the same. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 The affectionate relatives were united as those who, meeting 
 under great adversity, feel still the happiness of sharing it in 
 common. They embraced again and again, and gave way to those 
 expansions of the heart, which at once express and relieve the 
 pressure of mental agitation. At length the tide of emotion began 
 to subside ; and Sir Henry, still holding his recovered son by 
 the hand, resumed the command of his feelings which he usually 
 practised. 
 
 " So you have seen the last of our battles,. Albert," he said, "and 
 the King's colours have fallen for ever before the rebels ? " 
 
 " It is but even so," said the young man — " the last cast of the 
 die was thrown, and, alas ! lost, at Worcester ; and Cromwell's 
 fortune carried it there, as it has wherever he has shown himself." 
 
 " Well — it can but be for a time — it can but be for a time," answered 
 his father ; " the devil is potent, they say, in raising and gratifying 
 favourites, but -he can grant but short leases. — ^And the King — the 
 King, Albert- — the King — in my ear — close, close ! " 
 
 " Our last news were confident that he had escaped from Bristol.'' 
 
 "Thank God for that— thank God for that!" said the knight. 
 " Where didst thou leave him ? " 
 
 " Our men were almost all cut to pieces at the bridge," Albert 
 replied ; " but I followed his Majesty, with about five hundred 
 other officers and gentlemen, who were resolved to die around him, 
 until, as our numbers and appearance drew the whole pursuit after 
 us, it pleased his Majesty to dismiss us,, with many thanks and 
 words of comfort to us in general, and some kind expressions to 
 most of us in especial. He sent his royal greeting to you, sir, in 
 particular, and said more than becomes me to repeat." 
 
 " Nay, I will hear it every word, boy," said Sir Henry ; " is 
 not the certainty that thou hast discharged thy duty, and that King 
 Charles owns it, enough to console me for all we have lost and 
 suffered, and wouldst thou stint me of it from a false shamefaced- 
 ness ? — I wiE have it out of thee, were it drawn from thee with 
 cords ! " 
 
 " It shall need no such compulsion," said the young man — " It 
 was his Majesty's pleasure to bid me tell Sir Henry Lee, in his 
 name, that if his son could not go before his father in the race of 
 
WOODSTOCK. 241 
 
 loyalty, he was at least following him closely, and would soon move 
 side by side." 
 
 " Said he so ? " answered the knight — " Old Victor Lee will look 
 down with pride on thee, Albert!— But I forget — you must be 
 weary and hungry." 
 
 " Even so, sir," said Albert ; " but these are things which of late 
 I have been in the habit of enduring for safety's sake." 
 
 " Joceline ! — what ho, Joceline ! " 
 
 The under keeper entered, and received orders to get supper 
 prepared directly. 
 
 " My son and Dr. Rochecliffe are half- starving," said the 
 knight. 
 
 " And there is a lad, too, below," said Joceline ; " a page, he 
 says, of Colonel Albert's, whose belly rings cupboard too, and that 
 to no common tune ; for I think he could eat a horse, as the York- 
 shireman says, behind the saddle. He had better eat at the side- 
 board ; for he has devoured a whole loaf of bread and butter, as 
 fast as Phoebe could cut it, and it has not staid his stomach for a 
 minute— and truly I think you had better keep him under your own 
 eyes, for the steward beneath might ask him troublesome questions 
 if he went below — And then he is impatient, as all your gentle- 
 men pages are, and is saucy among the women." 
 
 " Whom is it he talks of? — what page hast thou got, Albert, that 
 bears himself so ill ? " said Sir Henry. 
 
 " The son of a dear friend, a noble lord of Scotland, who fol- 
 lowed the great Montrose's banner — afterwafds joined the King in 
 Scotland, and came with him as far as Worcester. He was wounded 
 the day before the battle, and conjured me to take this youth under 
 my charge, which I did, something unwillingly ; but I could not 
 refuse a father, perhaps on his death-bed, pleading for the safety of 
 an only son." 
 
 " Thou hadst deserved an halter, hadst thou hesitated," said Sir 
 Henry ; " the smallest tree can always give some shelter, — and it 
 pleases me to think the old stock of Lee is not so totally prostrate, 
 but it may yet be a refuge for the distressed. Fetch the youth in ; 
 — he is of noble blood, and these are no times of ceremony — he 
 shall sit with us at the same table, page though he be ; and if you 
 have not schooled him handsomely in his manners, he may not be 
 the worse of some lessons from me." 
 
 " You will excuse his national drawling accent, sir ? " said Albert, 
 " though I know you like it not." 
 
 " I have small cause, Albert," answered the knight — " small 
 cause. — Who stirred up these disunions ? — the Scots. Who 
 strengthened the hands of Parliament, when their cause was well- 
 nigh ruined?— the Scots again. Who delivered up the King, 
 
 R 
 
242 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 tneir "countryman, who had flung himself upon their protection ? 
 — the Scots again. But this lad's father, you say, has fought on 
 the part of the noble Montrose ; and such a man as the great 
 Marquis may make amends for the degeneracy of a whole nation." 
 
 " Nay, father," said Albert, " and I must add, that though this 
 lad is uncouth and wayward, and, as you will see, something wilful, 
 yet the King has not a more zealous friend in England ; and, when 
 occasion offered, he fought stoutly, too, in his defence — I marvel he 
 comes not." ^ 
 
 " He hath taken the bath," said Joceline, " and nothing less 
 would serve than that he should have it immediately — the supper, 
 he said, might be got ready in the meantime ; and he commands 
 all about him as if he were in his father's old castle, where he 
 might have called long enough, I warrant, without any. one to hear 
 him." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Sir Henry, " this must be a forward chick of the 
 game, to crow so early. — What is his name ? " 
 
 "-His name ? — it escapes me every hour, it is so hard a one," said 
 Albert — " Kerneguy is his name — Louis Kerneguy ; his father was 
 Lord Killstewers, of Kincardineshire." 
 
 " Kerneguy, and Killstewers, and Kin — what d'ye call it .'' — Truly," 
 said the knight, " these northern men's names and titles smack of 
 their origin — they sound like a north-west wind, rumbling and 
 roaring among heather and rocks." 
 
 " It is but the asperities of the Celtic and Saxon dialects," said 
 Dr. Rochecliffe, " which, according to Verstegan, still linger in 
 those northern parts of the island. — But peace — here comes supper, 
 and Master Louis Kerneguy." 
 
 Supper entered accordingly, borne in by Joceline and Phoebe, 
 and after it, leaning on a huge knotty stick, and having his nose in 
 the air like a questing hound — for his attention was apparently 
 more fixed on the good provisions that went before him, than any 
 thing else — came Master Kerneguy, and seated himself, without 
 much ceremony, at the lower end of the table. 
 
 He was a tall, rawboned lad, with a shock head of hair, fiery red, 
 like many of his country, while the harshness of his national fea- 
 tures was increased by the contrast of his complexion, turned 
 almost black by the exposure to all sorts of weather, which, in that 
 skulking and rambling mode of life, the fugitive royalists had been 
 obliged to encounter. His address was by no means prepossessing, 
 being a mixture of awkwardness and forwardness, and showing, in 
 a remarkable degree, how a want of easy address may be consis- 
 tent with an admirable stock of assurance. His face intimated 
 having received some recent scratches, and the care of Dr. Roche- 
 cliffe had decorated it with a number of patches, which even en 
 
WOODSTOCK, S43 
 
 hanced its natural plainness. Yet the eyes were brilliant and 
 expressive, and, amid his ugliness— for it amounted to that degree 
 of irregularity — the face was not deficient in some lines which 
 expressed both sagacity and resolution. 
 
 The dress of Albert himself was far beneath his quality, as the 
 son of Sir Henry Lee, and commander of a regiment in the royal 
 service ; but that of his page was still more dilapidated. A disas- 
 trous green jerkin, which had been changed to a hundred hues by 
 sun and rain, so that the original could scarce be discovered, huge 
 clouterly shoes, leathern breeches — such as were worn by hedgers 
 — coarse grey worsted stockings, were the attire of the honourable 
 youth, whose limping gait, while it added to the ungainliness of his 
 manner, showed, at the same time, the extent of his sufferings. 
 His appearance bordered so much upon what is vulgarly called the 
 queer, that even with Alice it would have excited some sense of 
 ridicule, had not compassion been predominant. 
 
 The grace was said ; and the young squire of Ditchley, as well 
 as Dr. Rochecliffe, made an excellent figure at a meal, the like of 
 which, in quality and abundance, did not seem to have lately fallen 
 to their share. But their feats were child's-play to those of the 
 Scottish youth. Far from betraying any symptoms of the bread 
 and butter with which he had attempted to close the orifice of his 
 stomach, hia appetite appeared to have been sharpened by a nine 
 days' fast ; and the knight was disposed to think that the very 
 genius of famine himself, come forth from his native regions of 
 the north, was in the act of honouring him with a visit, while, as 
 if afraid of losing a moment's exertion. Master Kerneguy never 
 looked either to right or left, or spoke a single word to any at 
 table. 
 
 " I am glad to see that you have brought a good appetite for our 
 country fare, young gentleman," said Sir Henry. 
 
 " Bread of gude ! sir," said the page, " an ye'U find flesh, I'se 
 find appetite conforming, ony day o' the year. But the truth is, 
 sir, that the' appeteezement has been coming on for three days or 
 four, and the meat in this southland of yours has been scarce, and 
 hard to come by ; so, sir, I'm making up for lost time, as the piper 
 of Sligo said, when he eat a hail side o' mutton." 
 
 " You have been country-bred, young man," said the knight, 
 who, like others of his time, held the reins of discipline rather 
 tight over the rising generation ; " at least, to judge from the youths 
 of Scotland whom I have seen at his late Majesty's court in former 
 days ; — they had less appetite, and more — more " — As he sought 
 the qualifying phrase, which might supply the place of " good 
 manners," his guest closed the sentence in his own way — '•' And 
 more meat, it may be — the better luck theirs." 
 
 R 3 
 
244 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Sir Henry stared and was silent. His son seemed to think it 
 time to interpose—" My dear father," he said, " think how many 
 years have run since the Thirty-eighth, when the Scottish troubles 
 first began, and I am sure that you will not wonder that, while the 
 Barons of Scotland have been, for one cause or other, perpetually 
 in the field, the education of their children at home must have been 
 much neglected, and that young men of my friend's age know better 
 how to use a broadsword, or to toss a pike, than the decent cere- 
 monials of society." 
 
 "The reason is a sufficient one," said the knight, "and, since 
 thou sayest thy follower Kernigo can fight, we'll not let him lack 
 victuals, a God's name.- — See, he looks angrily still at yonder cold 
 loin of mutton — for God's sake put it all on his plate ! " 
 
 " I can bide the bit and the buffet," said the honourable Master 
 Kerneguy — " a hungry tike ne'er minds a blaud with a rough 
 bane." 
 
 " Now, God ha'e mercy, Albert, but if this be the son of a Scots 
 peer," said Sir Henry to his son, in a low tone of voice, " I would 
 not be the English ploughman who would change manners with 
 him, for his ancient blood, and his nobility, and his estate to boot, 
 an he has one. He has eaten, as I am a Christian, near four 
 pounds of solid butcher's meat, and with the grace of a wolf tug- 
 ging at the carcass of a dead horse. — Oh, he is about to drink at 
 last — Soh ! — he wipes his mouth, though, — and dips his fingers in 
 the ewer — and dries them, I profess, with the napkin ! — there is 
 some grace in him, after all.'' 
 
 " Here is wussing all your vera gude healths ! " said the youth of 
 quality, and took a draught in proportion to the solids which he 
 had sent before ; he then flung his knife and fork awkwardly on 
 the trencher, which he pushed back towards the centre of the 
 table, extended his feet beneath it till they rested on their heels, 
 folded his arms on his well-replenished stomach, and, lolling back 
 in his chair, looked much as if he was about to whistle himself 
 asleep. 
 
 " Soh ! " said the knight — " the honourable Master Kernego hath 
 laid down his arms. — Withdraw these things, and give us our 
 glasses — Fill them around, Joceline ; and if the devil or the whole 
 Parliament were within hearing, let them hear Henry Lee of 
 Ditchley drink a health to King Charles, and confusion to his 
 enemies ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said a voice from behind the door. 
 
 All the company looked at each other in astonishment, at a 
 response so little expected. It was followed by a solemn and 
 peculiar tap, such as a kind of freemasonry had introduced among 
 royalists, and by which they were accustomed to make themselves 
 
WOODSTOCK. 24S 
 
 and their principles known to eacla other, when they met by 
 accident. 
 
 "There is no danger," said Albert, knowing the sign — "it is 
 a friend ; — yet I wish he had been at a greater distance just now." 
 
 " And why, my son, should you wish the absence of one true 
 man, who may, perhaps, wish to share our abundance, on one 
 of those rare occasions when we have superfluity at our dis- 
 posal ? — Go, Joceline, see who knocks — and, if a safe man, adrjiit 
 him." 
 
 " And if otherwise," said Joceline, " methinks I shall be able to 
 prevent his troubling the good company." 
 
 " No violence, Joceline, on your life ; " said Albert Lee ; and 
 Alice echoed, " For God's sake, no violence ! " 
 
 " No unnecessary violence at least," said the good knight ; " for 
 if the time demands it, I will have it seen that I am master of my 
 own house." Joceline Joliffe nodded assent to all parties, and 
 went on tiptoe to exchange one or two other mysterious symbols 
 and knocks, ere he opened the door. It may be here remarked, 
 that this species of secret association, with its signals of union, 
 existed among the more dissolute and desperate class of cavaliers, 
 men habituated to the dissipated life which they had been accus- 
 tomed to in an ill-disciplined army, where every thing like order 
 and regularity was too apt to be accounted a badge of puritanism. 
 These were the " roaring boys " who met in hedge alehouses, and 
 when they had by any chance obtained a little money or a little 
 credit, determined to create a counter-revolution by declaring their 
 sittings permanent, and proclaimed, in the words of one of their 
 choicest ditties, — 
 
 " We'll drink till we bring 
 In triumph back the king." 
 
 The leaders and gentry, of a higher description and more regular 
 morals, did not indeed partake such excesses, but they still kept 
 their eye upon a class of persons, who, from courage and despera- 
 tion, were capable of serving on an advantageous occasio^ the 
 fallen cause of royalty ; and recorded the lodges and blind taverns 
 at which they met, as wholesale merchants know the houses of call 
 of the mechanics whom they may have occasion to employ, and can 
 tell where they may find them when need requires. It is scarce 
 necessary to add, that among the lower class, and sometimes even 
 among the higher, there were men found capable of betraying the 
 projects and conspiracies of their associates, whether well or in- 
 differently combined, to the governors of the state. Cromwell, in 
 particular, had gained some correspondents of this kind of the 
 highest rank, and of the most undoubted character, among the 
 
246 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 royalists, who, if they made scruple of impeaching or betraying 
 individuals who confided in them, had no hesitation in giving the 
 government such general information as served to enable him to 
 disappoint the purposes of any plot or conspiracy. 
 
 To return to our story. In much shorter time than we have 
 spent in reminding the reader of these historical particulars, Joliffe 
 had jnade his mystic communication ; and being duly answered as 
 fry one of the initiated, he undid the door, and there entered our old 
 friend Roger Wildralse, roundhead in dress,, as his safety and his 
 dependence on Colonel Everard compelled him to be, but that dress 
 worn in a most cavalier.-like manner, and forming a stronger con- 
 trast than usual with the demeanour and language of the wearer, to 
 which it was never very congenial. 
 
 His puritanic hat, the emblem of that of Ralpho in the prints to 
 Hudibras, or, as he called it, his felt umbrella, was set most know- 
 ingly on one side of the head, as if it had been a Spanish hat and 
 feather; his straight square-caped sad-coloured cloak was flung 
 gaily upon one shoulder, as if it had been of three-piled taffeta, lined 
 with crimson silk ; and he paraded his huge calf-skin boots, as if 
 they had been silken hose and Spanish leather shoes, with roses on 
 the instep. In short, the airs which he gave himself, of a most 
 thorough-paced wild gallant and cavalier, joined to a glistening of 
 self-satisfaction in his eye, and an inimitable swagger in his gait, 
 which completely announced his thoughtless, conceited, and reck- 
 less character, formed a most ridiculous contrast to his gravity of 
 attire. 
 
 It could not, on the other hand, be denied, that in spite of the 
 touch of ridicule which attached to his character, and the loose 
 morality which he had learned in the dissipation of town pleasures, 
 and afterwards in the disorderly life of a soldier, Wildrake had 
 points about him both to make him feared and respected. He was 
 handsome, even in spite of his air of debauched effrontery ; a man 
 of the most decided courage, though his vaunting rendered it 
 "sometinies doubtful ; and entertained a sincere sense of hispolitical 
 principles, such as they were, though he was often so imprudent in 
 assertihg and boasting of them, as, joined with his dependence on 
 Colonel Everard, induced prudent men to doubt his sincerity. 
 
 Such as he was, however, he entered the parlour of Victor Lee, 
 where his presence was any thing but desirable to the parties 
 present, with a jaunty step, and a consciousness of deserving the 
 best possible reception. This assurance was greatly aided by cir- 
 cumstances which rendered it obvious, that if the jocund cavalier 
 had limited himself to one draught of liquor that evening, in terms 
 Of his vow of temperance, it must have been a very deep and long 
 
WOODSTOCK. 247 
 
 " Save ye, gentlemen, save ye.— Save you, good Sir Henry Lee, 
 though I have scarce the honour to be known to you. — Save you, 
 worthy doctor, and a speedy resurrection to the' fallen Church of 
 England." 
 
 " You are welcome, sir,'' said Sir Henry Lee, whose ifeelirrgs of 
 hospitality, and of the fraternal reception due to a royalist sufferer, 
 induced him to tolerate this intrusion more than he might have done 
 otherwise. " If you have fought or suffered for the King, sir, it is 
 an excuse for' joining us, and commanding our services in anything 
 in our power — although at present we are a family-party .--But I 
 think I saw you in waiting upon Master Markham Everard, who 
 calls himself Colonel Everard.— If your message is from him, you 
 may wish to see me in private?" 
 
 " Not at all. Sir Henry, not at all. It is true, as my ill hap will 
 have it, that being on the stormy side of the hedge — like all honest 
 men — you understand me. Sir. Henry: — I am glad,.as it were, to gain 
 something from my old friend and comrade's countenance — not by 
 truckling or disowning my principles, sir — I defy such practices ; — 
 but, in short, by doing him any kindness in my power when he is 
 pleased to call on me. So I came down here with a message from 
 
 him to the old roundheaded son of a (I beg the young lady's 
 
 pardon, from the crown of her head down to the very toes of her 
 slipper) — And so, sir, chancing as I was stumbling out in the dark, 
 I heard you give a toast, sir, which warmed my heart, sir, and ever 
 will, sir, till death chills it ; — and so I made bold to let. you know 
 there was an honest man within hearing." 
 
 Such was the self-introduction of Master Wildrake, to which the 
 knight replied, by asking him to sit down, and take a glass of sack 
 to his Majesty's glorious restoration. Wildrake, at this hint, 
 squeezed in without ceremony beside the young Scotsman, and not 
 only pledged his landlord's toast, but seconded its import, by " 
 volunteering a verse or two of his favourite loyal ditty, — " The King 
 shall enjoy his own again;" The heartiness which he threw into his 
 song opened still farther the heart of the old knight, though Albert 
 and Alice looked at each other with looks resentful of the intrusion, 
 and desirous to put an end to it. The honourable Master Kerneguy 
 either possessed that happy indifference of temper which does not 
 deign to notice such circumstances, or he was able to assume the 
 appearance of it to perfection, as he sat sipping sack, and cracking 
 walnuts, without testifying the least sense that an addition had been 
 made to the party. Wildrake, who liked the liquor and the com- 
 pany, shewed no unwillingness to repay his landlord, by being at 
 the expense of the conversation. 
 
 " You talk of fighting and suffering, Sir Henry Lee — Lord help 
 US, we have all had our share. All the world knows what Sir Henry 
 
24S WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Lee has done from Edgefield downwards, wherever a loyal sword 
 was drawn, or a loyal flag fluttered.— Ah, God help us ! I have 
 done something too.— My name is Roger Wildrake of Squattlesea- 
 mere, Lincoln— not that you are ever like to have heard it before, 
 but I was captain in Lunsford's light horse, and afterwards with 
 Goring. I was a child-eater, sir — a babe-bolter." 
 
 " I have heard of your regiment's exploits, sir ; and perhaps you 
 may find I have seen some of them, if we should spend ten minutes 
 together — And I think I have heard of your name too. — I beg to 
 drink your health, Captain Wildrake of Squattlesea-mere, Lincoln- 
 shire." 
 
 " Sir Henry, I drink yours in this pint bumper, and upon my 
 knee ; and I would do as much for that young gentleman " — (look- 
 ing at Albert) — " and the squire of the green cassock too, holding it 
 for green, as the colours are not to my eyes altogether clear and 
 distinguishable." 
 
 It was a remarkable part of what is called by theatrical folk the 
 by-play of this scene, that Albert was conversing apart with Doctor 
 Rochecliffe in whispers, even more than the divine seemed desirous 
 of encouraging; — yet, to whatever their private conversation referred, 
 it did not deprive the young Colonel of the power of listening to 
 what was going forward in the party at large, and interfering from 
 time to time, Uke a watch-dog, who can distinguish the slightest 
 alarm, even when employed in the engrossing process of taking his 
 food. 
 
 " Captain Wildrake," said Albert, "we have no objection — I mean 
 my friend and I — to be communicative on proper occasions ; but 
 you, sir, who are so old a sufferer, must needs know, that at such 
 casual meetings as this, men do not mention their names unless 
 they are specially wanted. It is a point of conscience, sir, to be 
 able to say, if your principal, Captain Everard or Colonel Everard, 
 if he be a Colonel, should examine you upon oath, I did not know 
 who the persons were whom I heard drink such and such 
 toasts." 
 
 " Faith, I have a better way of it, worthy sir," answered Wild- 
 rake ; " I never can, for the life of me, remember that there were 
 any such and such toasts drunk at all — It's a strange gift of forget- 
 fulness I have." 
 
 "Well, sir," replied the younger Lee ; "but we, who have unhappily 
 more tenacious memories, would willingly abide by the more general 
 rule." 
 
 " Oh, sir," answered Wildrake, " with all my heart. I intrude on 
 no man's confidence, d — n me— and I only spoke for civility's sake, 
 having the purpose of drinking your health in a good fashion."— 
 (Then he broke forth into melody) — 
 
WOODSTOCK. 249 
 
 " ' Then let the health go round, a-round, a-round, a-round, 
 
 Then let the health go round : 
 
 For though your stocking be of silk, 
 
 Your knee shall kiss the ground, a-ground, a-ground, a-ground, 
 
 Your knee shall kiss the ground.' " 
 
 " Urge it no farther," said Sir Henry, addressing his son ; 
 " Master Wildrake is one of the old school — one of the tantivy boys ; 
 and we must bear a little, for if they drink hard they fought well. I 
 will never forget how a party came up and rescued us clerks of 
 Oxford, as they called the regiment I belonged to, out of a cursed 
 embroglio during the attack on Brentford. I tell you we were 
 enclosed with the cockneys' pikes both front and rear, and we should 
 have come off but ill, had not Lunsford's light horse, the babe- 
 eaters as they called them, charged up to the pike's point, and 
 brought us off." 
 
 " I am glad you thought on that. Sir Henry," said Wildrake ; 
 " and do you remember what the officer of Lunsford's said ?" 
 
 " I think I do," said Sir Henry smiling. 
 
 " Well, then, did not he call out, when the women were coming 
 down, howling like sirens as they were — ' Have none of you a 
 plump child that you could give us, to break our fast upon ?' " 
 
 " Truth itself! " said the knight ; " and a great fat woman stepped 
 forward with a baby, and offered it to the supposed cannibal." 
 
 All at the table. Master Kerneguy excepted, who seemed to think 
 that good food of any kind required no apology, held up their hands 
 in token of amazement. 
 
 " Ay," said Wildrake, " the a-hem ! — I crave the lady's pardon 
 
 again, from tip of top-knot to hem of farthingale — but the cursed 
 creature proved to be a parish nurse, who had been paid for the 
 child half a year in advance. Gad, I took the baby out of the bitch- 
 wolf's hand ; and I have contrived, though God knows I have lived 
 in a skeldering sort of way myself, to breed up bold Breakfast, as I 
 call him, ever since. — It was paying dear for a jest, though." 
 
 " Sir, I honour you for your humanity," said the old knight — 
 " Sir, I thank you for your courage — Sir, I am glad to see you here," 
 said the good knight, his eyes watering almost to overflowing. 
 " So you were the wild officer who cut us out of the toils? — Oh, sir, 
 had you but stopped when I called on you, and allowed us to clear 
 the streets of Brentford with our musketeers, we would have been 
 at London Stone that day ! But your goodwill was the same." 
 
 " Ay, truly was it," said Wildrake, who now sat triumphant and 
 glorious in his easy-chair ; " And here is to all the brave hearts, 
 sir, that fought and fell in that same storm of Brentford. We drove 
 all before us like chaff, till the shops, where they sold strong waters, 
 and other temptations, brought us up — Gad, sir, we^ the babe- 
 
250 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 eaters, had too many acquaintances in Brentford, and our stout 
 Prince Rupert was ever better at making way than drawing off. 
 Gad, sir, for my own poor share, I did but go into the house of a 
 poor widow lady, who maintained a charge of daughters, and whom 
 I had known of old, to get my horse fed, a morsel of meat, and so 
 forth, when these cockney pikes of the artillery ground, as you very 
 well call them, rallied, and came in with their armed heads, as 
 boldly as so many Cotswold rams. I sprang down stairs— got to 
 my horse — but, egad, I fancy all my troop had widows and orphan 
 maidens to comfort as well as I, for only five of us got together. 
 We cut our way through successfully^and Gad, gentlemen, I 'car- 
 ried my little Breakfast on the pommel before me ; and there was 
 such a hallowing and screeching, as if the whole town thought I was 
 to kill, roast, and eat the poor child, so soon as I got to quarters. 
 But devil a cockney charged up to my bonny bay, poor lass, to 
 rescue little cake-bread ; they only cried haro, and out upon me." 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! " said the knight, " we made ourselves seem worse 
 than we were ; and we were too bad to deserve God's blessing 
 even in a good cause. But it is needless to look back — we did 
 not deserve victories when God gave them, for we never improved 
 them like good soldiers, or like Christian men ; and so we gave 
 these canting scoundrels the advantage of us, for they assumed, 
 out of mere hypocrisy, the discipline and orderly behaviour which 
 we, who drew our swords in a better cause, ought to have prac- 
 tised out of true principle. But here is my hand. Captain. I 
 have often wished to see the honest fellow who charged up so 
 smartly in our behalf, and I reverence you for the care you took 
 of the poor child. I am glad this dilapidated place has still 
 some hospitality to offer you, although we cannot treat you to 
 roasted babes or stewed sucklings — ehj Captain ! " 
 
 " Troth, Sir Henry, the scandal was sore against us on that 
 score. I remember Lacy, who was an old play-actor, and a 
 lieutenant in ours, made drollery on it in a play which was 
 sometimes acted at Oxford, when our hearts were something up, 
 called, I think, the Old Troop."* 
 
 So saying, and feeling more familiar as his merits were known, 
 he hitched his chair up against that of the Scottish lad, who 
 was seated next him, and who, in shifting his place, was awkward 
 enough to disturb, in his turn, Alice Lee, who sat opposite, and, 
 a little offended, or at least embarrassed, drew her chair away 
 from the table. 
 
 " I crave pardon," said the honourable Master Kerneguy ; " but, 
 sir," to Master Wildrake, "ye hae e'en garr'd me hurt the young 
 lady's shank." 
 
 " I crave your pardon, sir, and much more that of the fair lady, 
 
WOODSTOCK. oSi 
 
 as is reasonable ; though, rat me, sir, if it was I set your chair 
 a-trundling in that way. Zooks, sir, I have brought with me 
 no plague, nor pestilence, nor other infectious disorder, that ye 
 should have started away as if I had been a leper, and discom- 
 posed the lady, which I would have prevented with my life, sir. 
 Sir, if ye be northern born, as your tongue bespeaks, egad, it was 
 I ran the risk in drawing near you ; so there was small reason for 
 you to bolt." 
 
 " Master Wildrake," said Albert, interfering, " this young gen- 
 tleman is a stranger as well as you, under protection of Sir 
 Henry's hospitality, and it cannot be agreeable for my father to 
 see disputes arise among his guests. You may mistake the young 
 gentleman's quality from his present appearance — this is the Hon- 
 ourable Master Louis Kemeguy, sir, son of my Lord Killstewers 
 of Kincardineshire, one who has fought for the King, young as 
 he is." 
 
 "No dispute shall rise through me, sir — none through me," 
 said Wildrake ; " your exposition sufficeth, sir. — Master Louis 
 Girnigo, son of my Lord Kilsteer, in Gringarden shire, I am your 
 humble slave, sir, and' drink your health, in token that I honour 
 you, and all true Scots who draw their Andrew Ferraras on the 
 right side, sir." 
 
 " Ise beholden to you, and thank you, sir," said the young 
 man, with some haughtiness of manner, which hardly corre- 
 sponded with his rusticity ; " and I wuss your health in a ceevil way." 
 
 Most judicious persons would have here dropped the conver- 
 sation ; but it was one of Wildrake's marked peculiarities, that 
 he could never let matters stand when they were well. He con- 
 tinued to plague the shy, proud, and awkward lad with his ob- 
 servations. " You speak your national dialect pretty strongly. 
 Master Girnigo," said he, " but I think not quite the language of 
 the gallants tha;t I have known among the Scottish cavaliers — I 
 knew, for example, some of the Gordons, and others of good 
 repute, who always puts aii / for the wh, as faat for what, fan 
 for when, and the like." 
 
 Albert Lee here interposed, and said that the provinces of 
 Scotland, like those of England, had their different modes of 
 pronunciation. 
 
 " You are very right, sir," said Wildrake. " I reckon myself, 
 now, a pretty good speaker of their cursed jargon — no offence, 
 young gentleman ; and yet, when I took a turn with some of 
 Montrose's folk, in the South Hielands, as they call their beastly 
 wildernesses, (no offence again,) I chanced to be by myself, and 
 to lose my way, when I said to a shepherd-fellow, making my 
 mouth as wide, and my voice as broad as I could, whore mn I 
 
252 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 ganging till? — confound me if the fellow could answer me, 
 unless, indeed, he was sulky, as the bumpkins will be now and 
 then to the gentlemen of the sword." 
 
 This was familiarly spoken, and though 'partly addressed to 
 Albert, was still more directed to his immediate neighbour, the 
 young Scotsman, who seemed from bashfulness, or some other 
 reason, rather shy of his intimacy. To one or two personal touches 
 from WUdrake's elbow, administered during his last speech, by 
 way of a practical appeal to him in particular, he only answered, 
 " Misunderstandings were to be expected when men converse in 
 national deealects." 
 
 Wildrake, now considerably drunker than he ought to have been 
 in civil company, caught up the phrase, and repeated it : " Misun- 
 derstanding, sir — Misunderstanding, sir ! I do not know how I 
 am to construe that, sir ; but to judge from the information of these 
 scratches on your honourable visnomy, I should augur that you 
 had been of late at misunderstanding with the cat, sir." 
 
 " You are mistaken, then, friend, for it was with the dowg," 
 answered the Scotsman, drj'ly, and cast a look towards Albert. 
 
 " We had some trouble with the watch-dogs in entering so late 
 in the evening," said Albert, in explanation, " and this youth 
 had a fall among some rubbish, by which he came by these 
 scratches." 
 
 " And now, dear Sir Henry," said Dr. Rochecliffe, " allow us to 
 remind you of your gout, and our long journey. I do it the rather 
 that my good friend your son has been, during the whole time of 
 supper, putting questions to me aside, which had much better be 
 reserved till to-morrow — May we therefore ask permission to retire 
 to our night's rest ? " 
 
 " These private committees in a merry meeting," said Wildrake, 
 " are a solecism in breeding. They always put me in mind of the 
 cursed committees at Westminster. But shall we to roost before 
 we rouse the night-owl with a catch ? " 
 
 " Aha, canst thou quote Shakspeare ? " said Sir Henry, pleased 
 at discovering a new good quality in his acquaintance, whose 
 military services were otherwise but just able to counterbalance 
 the intrusive freedom of his conversation. " In the name of merry 
 Will," he continued, — " whom I never saw, though I have seen 
 many of his comrades, as Alleyn, Hemmings, and so on, — we wiU 
 have a single catch, and one rouse about, and then to bed " 
 
 After the usual discussion about the choice of the song, and the 
 parts which each was to bear, they united their voices in trolling a 
 loyal glee, which was popular among the party at the time, and in 
 fact believed to be composed by no less a person than Doctor 
 Rochecliffe himself. 
 
WOOnSTOCK. 253 
 
 GLEE FOR KING CHARLES., 
 
 Bring the bowl which you boast. 
 
 Fill it up to the brim ; 
 'Tis to him we love most, 
 
 And to all who love him. 
 Brave gallants, stand up, 
 
 And avaunt, ye base carles ! 
 Were there death in the cup, 
 
 Here's a health to King Charles ! 
 
 Though he wanders through dangers, 
 
 Unaided, unknown. 
 Dependent on strangers, 
 
 Estranged from his own ; 
 Though 'tis under our breath, 
 
 Amidst forfeits and perils, 
 Here's to honour and faith, 
 
 And a health to King Charles ! 
 
 Let such honours abound 
 
 As the time can afford. 
 The knee on the ground, 
 
 And the hand on the sword ; 
 But the time shall come round. 
 
 When, mid Lords, Dukes, and Earls, 
 The loud trumpets shall sound 
 
 Here's a health to King Charles ? 
 
 After this display of loyalty, and a final libation, the party took 
 leave of each other for the night. Sir Henry offered his old 
 acquaintance Wildrake a bed for the evening, Who weighed the 
 matter somewhat in this fashion : " Why, to speak truth, my 
 patron wiU expect me at the borough — but then he is used to my 
 staying out of doors a-nights. Then there's the Devil, that they 
 say haunts Woodstock ; but with the blessing of this reverend 
 doctor, I defy him and all his works — I saw him not when I slept 
 here twice before, and I am sure if he was absent then, he has not 
 come back with Sir Henry Lee and his family. So I accept your 
 courtesy. Sir Henry, and I thank you, as a cavalier of Lunsford 
 should thank one of the fighting clerks of Oxon. God bless t:he 
 King ! I care not who hears it, and confusion to Noll and his red 
 nose ! " Off he went accordingly with a bottle-swagger, guided 
 by Joceline, to whom Albert, in the meantime, had whispered, to 
 be sure to quarter him far enough from the rest of the family. 
 
 oung Lee then saluted his sister, and, with the formality of 
 those times, asked and received his father's blessing with an affec- 
 tionate embrace. His page seemed desirous to imitate one part of 
 
ES4 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 his example, but was repelled by Alice, who only replied to his 
 offered salute with a curtsy. He next bowed his head in an 
 awkward fashion to her father, who wished him a good-night. " I 
 am glad to see, young man," he said, " that you have at least 
 learned the reverence due to age. It should always be paid, sir ; 
 because in doing so you render that honour to others which you 
 will expect yourself to receive when you approach the close of your 
 life. More will I speak with you at leisure, on your duties as a 
 page, which office in former days used to be the very school of 
 chivalry ; whereas of late, by the disorderly times, it has become 
 little better than a school of wild and disordered license ; which 
 
 made rare Ben Jonson exclaim " 
 
 " Nay, father," said Albert, interposing, " you must consider 
 this day's fatigue, and the poor lad is almost asleep on his legs — 
 to-morrow, he will listen with more profit to your kind admonitions. 
 — And you, Louis, remember at least one part of your duty — take 
 the candles and light us— here Joceline comes to show us the 
 way. Once more, good-night, good Doctor Rochecliffe — good- 
 night, all." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Groom. Hail, noble prince ! 
 King Richard. Thanks, noble peer ! 
 
 The cheapest of us is a groat loo dear. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 Albert and his page were ushered by Joceline to what was 
 called the Spanish Chamber, a huge old scrambling bedroom, 
 rather in a dilapidated condition, but furnished with a large stand- 
 ing-bed for the master, and a truckle-bed for the domestic, as was 
 common at a much later period in old English houses, where the 
 gentleman often required the assistance of a groom of the chambers 
 to help him to bed, if the hospitality had been exuberant. The 
 walls were covered with hangings of cordovan leather, stamped 
 with gold, and representing fights between the Spaniards and 
 Moriscoes, bull-feasts, and other sports peculiar to the Peninsula, 
 from which it took its name of the Spanish Chamber. These 
 hangings were in some places entirely torn down, in others defaced 
 and hanging in tatters. But Albert stopped not to make observa- 
 tions, anxious, it seemed, to get Joceline out of the room ; which 
 he achieved by hastily answering his offers of fresh fuel, and more 
 liquor, in the negative, and returning, with equal conciseness, the 
 under keeper's good wishes for the evening. He at length retired, 
 somewhat unwillingly, and as if he thought that his young master 
 
WOODSTOCK. ass 
 
 might have bestowed a few more words upon a faithful old retainer 
 after so long absence. 
 
 Jolifife was no sooner there, than, before a single word was spoken 
 between Albert Lee and his page, the former hastened to the door, 
 examined lock, latch, and bolt, and made them fast, with the most 
 scrupulous attention. He superadded to these precautions that of 
 a long screw-bolt, which he brought out of his pocket, and which 
 he screwed on to the staple in such a manner as to render it im- 
 possible to withdraw it, or open the door, unless by breaking it 
 down. The page held a light to him during the operation, which 
 his master went through with much exactness and dexterity. But 
 when Albert arose from his knee, on which he had rested during 
 the accomplishment of this task, the manner of the companions 
 was on the sudden entirely changed towards each other. The 
 honourable Master Kerneguy, from a cubbish lout of a raw Scots- 
 man, seemed to have acquired at once all the grace and ease of 
 motion and manner, which could be given by an acquaintance 
 of the earliest and most familiar kind with the best company of the 
 time. 
 
 He gave the light he held to Albert, with the easy indifference of 
 a superior, who rather graces than troubles his dependent by giving 
 him some slight service to perform, Albert, with the greatest 
 appearance of deference, assumed in his turn the character of torch- 
 bearer, and lighted his page across the chamber, without turning 
 his back upon him as he did so. He then set the light on a table 
 by the bedside, and approaching the young man with deep reve- 
 rence, received from him the soiled green jacket, with the same 
 profound respect as if he had been a first lord of the bedchamber, 
 or other officer of the household of the highest distinction, dis- 
 robing his Sovereign of the Mantle of the Garter. The person to 
 whom this ceremony was addressed endured it for a minute or two 
 with profound gravity, and then bursting out a-laughing, exclaimed 
 to Albert, " What a devil means all this formality ? — thou compli- 
 raentest with these miserable rags as if they were silks and sables, 
 and with poor Louis Kerneguy as if he were the King of Great 
 Britain ? " 
 
 "And if your Majesty's commands, and the circumstances of the 
 time, have made me for a moment seem to forget that you are my 
 sovereign, surely I may be permitted to render my homage as such 
 while you are in your own royal palace of Woodstock ? " 
 
 " Truly," replied the disguised monarch, " the sovereign and the 
 palace are not ill matched ; — these tattered hangings and my ragged 
 jerkin suit each other admirably. — This Woodstock ! — this the 
 bower where the royal Norman revelled with the fair Rosamond 
 Clifford ! — Why, it is a place of assignation for owls ! " Then, 
 
2;6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 suddenly recollecting himself with his natural courtesy, he added, 
 as if fearing he might have hurt Albert's feelings—" But the more 
 obscure and retired, it is the fitter for our purpose, Lee ; and if it 
 does seem to be a roost for owls, as there is no denying, why we 
 know it has nevertheless brought up eagles." 
 
 He threw himself as he spoke upon a chair, and indolently, but 
 gracefully, received the kind offices of Albert, who undid the coarse 
 buttonings of the leathern gamashes which defended his legs, and 
 spoke to him the whilst ;— " What a fine specimen of the olden 
 time is your father. Sir Henry ! It is strange I should not have 
 seen him before ; — but I heard my father often speak of him as 
 being among the flower of our real old English gentry. By the 
 mode in which he began to school me, I can guess you had a tight 
 taskmaster of him, Albert — I warrant you never wore hat in his 
 presence, eh ? " 
 
 " I never cocked it at least in his presence, please your Majesty, 
 as I have seen some youngsters do," answered Albert ; " indeed if I 
 had, it must have been a stout beaver to have saved me from a 
 broken head." 
 
 " Oh, I doubt it not," replied the King ; " a fine old gentleman 
 — but with that, methinks, in his countenance, that assures you he 
 would not hate the child in sparing the rod. — Hark ye, Albert — 
 Suppose the same glorious Restoration come round, — which, if 
 drinking to its arrival can hasten it, should not be far distant, — for 
 in that particular our adherents never lieglect their duty, — suppose 
 it come, therefore, and that thy father, as must be of course, becomes 
 an Earl and one of the Privy Council, odds-fish, man, I shall be as 
 much afraid of him as ever was my grandfather Henry Qua'tre of 
 old Sully. — Imagine there were such a trinket how about the Court 
 as the fair Rosamond, or La Belle GabrieUe, what a work there 
 would be of pages, and grooms of the chamber, to get the pretty 
 rogue clandestinely shuffled out by the backstairs, like a prohibited 
 commodity, when the step of the Earl of Woodstock was heard in 
 the antechamber ! " 
 
 " I am glad to see your Majesty so merry after your fatiguing 
 journey." 
 
 " The fatigue was nothing, man," said Charles ; " a kind welcome 
 and a good meal made amends for all that. But they must have 
 suspected thee of bringing a wolf from the braes of Badenoch along 
 with you, instead of a two-legged being, with no more than the 
 usual allowance of mortal stowage for provisions. I was really 
 ashamed of my appetite ; but thou knowest I had eat nothing for 
 twenty-four hours, save the raw egg you stole for me from the old 
 woman's hen-roost — I tell thee, I blushed to show myself so 
 ravenous before that high-bred and respectable old gentleman 
 
WOODSTOCK. 2S7 
 
 your father, and the very pretty girl your sister— or cousin, is 
 she?" 
 
 " She is my sister," said Albert Lee, dryly, and added, in the 
 same breath, " Your Majesty's appetite suited well enough with the 
 character of a raw, northern lad. — Would your Majesty now please 
 to retire to rest ? " 
 
 " Not for a minute or two,'' said the King, retaining his seat. 
 " Why, man, I have scarce had my tongue unchained to-day ; and 
 to talk with that northern twang, and besides, the fatigue of being 
 obliged to speak every word in character,— Gad, it's like walking 
 as the galley slaves do on the Continent, with a twenty-four pound 
 shot chained to their legs — they may drag it along, but they cannot 
 move with comfort. And, by the way, thou art slack in paying me 
 my well-deserved tribute of compliments on my counterfeiting.— 
 Did I not play Louis Kerneguy as round as a ring ? " 
 
 " If your Majesty asks my serious opinion, perhaps I may be 
 forgiven if I say your dialect was somewhat too coarse for a Scottish 
 youth of high birth, and your behaviour perhaps a little too churlish. 
 I thought too — ^though I pretend not to be skilful — that some of 
 your Scottish sounded as if it were not genuine." 
 
 " Not genuine ? — there is no pleasing thee, Albert. — Why, who 
 should speak genuine Scottish but myself? — Was I not their King 
 for a matter of ten months ? and if I did not get knowledge of their 
 language, I wonder what else I got by it. Did not east country, 
 and south country, and west country, and Highlands, caw, croak, 
 and shriek about me, as the deep guttural, the broad drawl, and 
 the high sharp yelp predominated by turns ? — Odds-fish, man, have 
 I not been speeched at by their orators, addressed by their senators, 
 rebuked by their kirkmen ? Have I not sat on the cutty stool, 
 mon, [again assuming the northern dialect,] and thought it grace 
 of worthy Mas John Gillespie, that I was permitted to do penance 
 in inine own privy chamber, instead of the face of the congrega- 
 tion ? and wilt thou tell me, after all, that I cannot speak Scottish 
 enough to baffle an Oxon Knight and his family ? " 
 
 " May it please your Majesty, — I began by saying I was no judge 
 of the Scottish language." 
 
 " Pshaw — it is mere envy ; just so you said at Norton's, that I 
 was too courteous and civil for a young page — now you think me 
 too rude." 
 
 " And there is a medium, if one could find it," said Albert, de- 
 fending his opinion in the same tone in which the King attacked 
 him ; " so this morning, when you were in the woman's dress, you 
 raised your petticoats rather unbecomingly high, as you waded 
 through the first little stream ; and when I told you of it, to mend 
 the matter, you draggled through the next without raising them at all." 
 
 s 
 
2S8 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " O, the devil take the woman's dress ! " said Charles ; " I hope 
 I shall never be driven to that disguise again. Why, my ugly face 
 was enough to put gowns, caps, and kirtles, out of fashion for ever 
 — the very dogs fled from me— Had I passed any hamlet that had 
 but five huts in it, I could not have escaped the cucking-stool. I 
 was a libel on womanhood. These leathern conveniences are none 
 of the gayest, but they are propria qua maribus; and right glad 
 am I to be repossessed of them. I can tell you too, my friend, I 
 shall resume all my masculine privileges with my proper habili- 
 ments ; and as you say I have been too coarse to-night, I will 
 behave myself like a courtier to Mistress Alice to-morrow. I made 
 a sort of acquaintance with her already, when I seemed to be of 
 the same sex with herself, and found out there are other Colonels 
 in the wind besides you. Colonel Albert Lee." 
 
 " May it please your Majesty," said Albert — and then stopped 
 short, from the difficulty of finding words to express the unpleasant 
 nature of his feelings. They could not escape Charles ; but he 
 proceeded without scruple. " I pique myself on seeing as far into 
 the hearts of young ladies as most folk, though God knows they are 
 sometimes too deep for the wisest of us. But I mentioned to your 
 sister in my character of fortune-teller, — thinking, poor simple man, 
 that a country girl must have no one but her brother to dream 
 about, — that she was anxious about a certain Colonel. I had hit 
 the theme, but not the person ; for I alluded to you, Albert ; and 
 I presume the blush was too deep ever to be given to a brother. 
 So up she got, and away she flew from me like a lapwing. I can 
 excuse her — for, looking at myself in the well, I think if I had met 
 such a creature as I seemed, I should have called fire and fagot 
 against it, — Now, what think you, Albert— who can this Colonel be, 
 that more than rivals you in your sister's affection ? " 
 
 Albert, who well knew that the King!s mode of thinking, where 
 the fair sex was concerned, was far more gay than delicate, 
 endeavoured to put to a stop to the present topic, by a grave 
 answer. 
 
 "His sister," he said, "had been in some measure educated 
 with the son of her maternal uncle, Markham Everard ; but as his 
 father and he himself had adopted the cause of the roundheads, 
 the families had in consequence been at variance ; and any pro- 
 jects which might have been formerly entertained, were of course 
 long since dismissed on all sides." 
 
 " You are wrong, Albert, you are wrong," said the King, piti- 
 lessly pursuing his jest. " You Colonels, whether you wear blue 
 or orange sashes, are too pretty fellows to be dismissed so easily, 
 when once you have acquired an interest. But Mistress Alice, so 
 pretty, and who wishes the restoration of the King with such a 
 
WOODSTOCK. aS9 
 
 look and accent, as if she were an angel whose prayers must 
 needs bring it down, must not be allowed to retain any thoughts of 
 a canting roundhead — What say you — will you give me leave to 
 take her to task about it ? — After all, I am the party most con- 
 cerned in maintaining true allegiance among my subjects ; and 
 if I gain the pretty maiden's good-will, that of the sweetheart's 
 will soon follow. This was jolly King Edward's way — Edward 
 the Fourth, you know. The king-making Earl of Warwick — the 
 Cromwell of his day — dethroned him more than once ; but he had 
 the hearts of the merry dames of London, and the purses and 
 veins of the Cockneys bled freely, till they brought him home 
 again. How say you i" — shall I shake off my northern slough, and 
 speak with Ahce in my own character, showing what education 
 and manners have done for me, to make the best amends they can 
 for an ugly face ? " 
 
 " May it please your Majesty," said Albert, in an altered and 
 embarrassed tone, " I did not expect "^^ 
 
 Here he stopped, not able to find words adequate at the same 
 time to express his sentiments, and respectful enough to the King, 
 while in his father's house, and under his own protection. 
 
 " And what is it that Master Lee does not expect ? " said Charles, 
 with marked gravity on his part. 
 
 Again Albert attempted a reply, but advanced no farther than, 
 " I would hope, if it please your Majesty " — when he again stopped 
 short, his deep and hereditary respect for his sovereign, and his 
 sense of the hospitality due to his misfortunes, preventing his 
 giving utterance to his irritated feelings. 
 
 " And what does Colonel Albert Lee hope ? " said Charles, in 
 the same dry and cold manner in which he had before spoken. 
 — " No answer ? — Now, / hojie that Colonel Lee does not see in 
 a silly jest any thing offensive to the honour of his family, since 
 methinks that were an indifferent compliment to his sister, his 
 father, and himself, not to mention 'Charles Stewart, whom he 
 calls his King ; and l expect, that I shall not be so hardly con- 
 strued, as to be supposed capable of forgetting that Mistress 
 Alice Lee is the daughter of my faithful subject and host, and 
 the sister of my guide and preserver. — Come, come, Albert," he 
 added, changing at once to his naturally frank and unceremonious 
 manner, "you forget how long I have been abroad, where men, 
 women, and children, talk gallantry, morning, noon, and night, 
 with no more seri^ous thought, than just to pass away the time ; 
 and I forget too, that you are of the old-fashioned English 
 school, a son after Sir Henry's own heart, and don't understand 
 raillery upon such subjects. — But I ask your^pardon, Albert, sin- 
 cerely, if I have really hurt you." 
 
 S 2 
 
26o WOODSTOCK. 
 
 So saying, he extended his hand to Colonel Lee, who, feeling 
 he had been rather too hasty in construing the King's jest in an 
 unpleasant sense, kissed it with reverence, and attempted an 
 apology. 
 
 " Not a word — not a word," said the good-natured Prince, raising 
 his penitent adherent as he attempted to kneel ; " we understand 
 each other. You are somewhat afraid of the gay reputation which I 
 acquired in Scotland ; but I assure you, I will be as stupid as you, 
 or your cousin Colonel could desire, in presence of Mrs. Alice Lee, 
 and only bestow my gallantry, should I have any to throw away, 
 upon the pretty little waiting-maid who attended at supper — unless 
 you should have monopolized her ear for your own benefit, Colonel 
 Albert." 
 
 " It is monopolized, sure enough, though not by me, if it please 
 your Majesty, but by Joceline Joliffe, the underkeeper, whom we 
 must not disoblige, as we have trusted him so far already, and 
 may have occasion to reppse even entire confidence in him. I 
 half think he suspects who Louis Kerneguy may in reality be." 
 
 " You are an fengrossing set, you wooers of Woodstock," said 
 the King, laughing. "Now, if I had a fancy, as a Frenchman 
 would not fail to have in such a case, td make pretty speeches to 
 the deaf old woman I saw in the kitchen, as a pisaller, I dare say 
 I should be told that her ear was engrossed for Dr. Rochecliffe's 
 sole use ? " 
 
 " I marvel at your Majesty's good spirits," said Albert, " that, 
 after a day of danger, fatigue, and accidents, you should feel the 
 power of amusing yourself thus." 
 
 " That is to say, the groom of the chambers wishes his Majesty 
 would go to sleep? — Well, one word or two on more serious 
 business, and I have done.— I have been completely directed by 
 you and Rochecliffe— I have changed my disguise from female to 
 male upon the instant, and altered my destination from Hamp- 
 shire to take shelter here— Do you still hold it the wiser course?" 
 
 "I have great confidence in Dr. Rochecliffe," replied Albert, 
 " whose acquaintance with the scattered royalists enables him to 
 gain the most accurate intelligence. His pride in the extent of 
 his correspondence, and the complication of his plots and schemes 
 for your Majesty's service, is indeed the very food he lives upon ; 
 but his sagacity is equal to his vanity. I repose, besides, the 
 utmost faith in Johffe. Of my father and sister I would say 
 nothing ; yet I would not, without reason, extend the knowledge 
 of your Majesty's person farther than it is indispensably ne- 
 cessary." 
 
 " Is it handsome in me," said Charles, pausing, " to withhold my 
 full confidence from Sir Henry Lee ? " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 261 
 
 •' Your Majesty heard of his almost death-swoon of last night — 
 what would agitate him most deeply must not be hastily communi- 
 cated." 
 
 " True ; but are we safe from a visit of the red-coats — they 
 have them in Woodstock as well as in Oxford ? " said Charles. 
 
 " Dr. Rochecliffe says, not unwisely," answered Lee, " that it is 
 best sitting near the fire when the chimney smokes ; and that Wood- 
 stock, so lately in possession of the sequestrators, and still in the 
 vicinity of the soldiers, will be less suspected, and more carelessly 
 searched, than more distant corners, which might seem to promise 
 more safety. Besides," he added, "Rochecliffe is in possession 
 of curious and important news concerning the state of matters at 
 Woodstock, highly favourable to your Majesty's being concealed 
 in the palace for two or three days, till shipping is provided. 
 The Parliament, or usurping Council of State, had sent down 
 sequestrators, whom their own evil consciences, assisted, perhaps, 
 by the tricks of some daring cavaliers, had frightened out of the 
 Lodge, without much desire to come back again. Then the more 
 formidable usurper, Cromwell, had granted a warrant of posses- 
 sion to Colonel Everard, who had only used it for the purpose of 
 repossessing his uncle in the Lodge, and who kept watch in 
 person at the little borough, to see that Sir Henry was not 
 disturbed." 
 
 " What ! Mistress Alice's Colonel ? " said the King—" that 
 sounds alarming ; — for grant that he keeps the other fellows at 
 bay, think you not. Master Albert, he will have an hundred 
 errands a-day to bring him here in person ? " 
 
 " Dr. Rochecliffe says," answered Lee, " the treaty between Sir 
 Henry and his nephew binds the latter not to approach the 
 Lodge, unless invited ; — indeed, it was not without great difficulty, 
 and strongly arguing .the good consequences it might produce to 
 your Majesty's cause, that my father could be prevailed on to 
 occupy Woodstock at all : but be assured he will be in no hurry 
 to send an invitation to the Colonel." 
 
 " And be you assured that the Colonel will come without waiting 
 for one," said Charles. " Folk cannot judge rightly where sisters 
 are concerned — they are too familiar with the magnet to judge of 
 its powers of attraction. — Everard will be here, as if drawn by cart- 
 ropes — fetters, not to talk of promises, will not hold him — and 
 then, methinks, we are in some danger." 
 
 " I hope not," said Albert. " In the first place, I know Mark- 
 ham is a slave to his, word; besides, were any chance to bring 
 him here, I think I could pass your Majesty upon him without 
 difficulty, as Louis Kerneguy. Then, although my cousin and I 
 have not been on good terms for these some years, I believe him 
 
262 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 incapable of betraying your Majesty ; and lastly, if I saw the least 
 danger of it, I would, were he ten times the son of my mother's 
 sister, run my sword through his body, ere he had time to execute 
 his purpose." 
 
 "There is but another question," said Charles, "and I will 
 release you, Albert : — You seem to think yourself secure from search. 
 It may be so ; but, in any other country, this tale of goblins which 
 is flying about would bring down priests and ministers of justice to 
 examine the reality of the story, and mobs of idle people to satisfy 
 their curiosity." 
 
 " Respecting the first, sir, we 1" -pe and understand that Colonel 
 Everard's influence will prevent any immediate enquiry, for the 
 sake of preserving undisturbed the peace of his uncle's family; 
 and as for any one coming without some sort of authority, the 
 whole neighbours have so much love and fear of my father, and 
 are, besides, so horribly alarmed about the goblins of Woodstock, 
 that fear will silence curiosity." 
 
 " On the whole, then," said Charles, " the chances of safety 
 seem to be in favour of the plan we have adopted, which is all I 
 can hope for in a condition where absolute safety is out of the 
 question. The Bishop recommended Dr. RochecHffe aS one of 
 the most ingenious, boldest, and most loyal sons of the Church of 
 England ; you, Albert Lee, have marked your fidelity by a hundred 
 proofs. To you and your local knowledge I submit myself. — 
 And now, prepare our arms — alive I will not be taken ; — yet I will 
 not believe that a son of the King of England, and heir of her 
 throne, could be destined to danger in his own palace, and under 
 the guard of the loyal Lees." 
 
 Albert Lee laid pistols and swords in readiness by the King's 
 bed and his own ; and Charles, after some slight apology, took his 
 place in the larger and better bed, with a sigh of pleasure, as from 
 one who had not lately enjoyed such an indulgence. He bid 
 good-night to his faithful attendant, who deposited himself on his 
 truckle ; and both monarch and subject were soon fast asleep. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Give Sir Nicholas Threlkeld praise ; 
 Hear it, good man, old in days, 
 Thou tree of succour and of rest 
 To this young bird that was distress'd ; 
 Beneath thy branches he did stay ; 
 And he was free to sport and play, 
 When falcons were abroad for prey. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 The fugitive Prince slept, in spite of danger, with the profound 
 repose which youth and fatigue inspire. But the young cavalier, 
 his guide and guard, spent a more restless night, starting from 
 time to time, and listening ; anxious, notwithstanding Doctor 
 Rochecliffe's assurances, to procure yet more particular knowledge 
 concerning the state of things around them, than he had been yet 
 able to collect. 
 
 He rose early after daybreak ; but although he moved with as 
 little noise as was possible, the slumbers of the haunted Prince 
 were easily disturbed. He started up in his bed, and asked if 
 there was any alarm. 
 
 " None, please your Majesty," replied Lee ; " only, thinking on 
 the questions your Majesty was asking last night, and the various 
 chances there are of your Majesty's safety being endangered from 
 unforeseen accidents, I thought of going thus early, both to com- 
 municate with Doctor Rochecliffe, and to keep such a look-out as 
 befits the place, where are lodged for the time the fortunes of Eng- 
 land. I fear I must request of your Majesty, for your own gracious 
 security, that you have the goodness to condesc&nd to secure the 
 door with your own hand after I go out." 
 
 " Oh, talk not to Majesty, for Heaven's sake, dear Albert ! " 
 answered the poor King, endeavouring in vain to put on a part of 
 his clothes in order to traverse the room. — " When a King's 
 doublet and hose are so ragged that he can no more find his way 
 into them than he could have travelled through the forest of 
 Deane without a guide, good faith, there should be an end of 
 Majesty, until it chances to be better accommodated. Besides, 
 there is the chance of these big words bolting out at unawares, 
 when there are ears to hear them whom we might think dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 " Your commands shall be obeyed," said Lee, who had now suc- 
 ceeded in opening the door ; from which he took his departure, 
 leaving the King, who had hustled along the floor for that purpose, 
 with his dress wofuUy ill arranged, to make it fast again behind 
 
264 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 him, and begging him in no case to open to any one, unless he or 
 Rochediffe were of the party who summoned him. 
 
 Albert then set out in quest of Doctor Rochecliffe's apartment, 
 which was only known to himself and the faithful Joliffe, and had_ 
 at different times accommodated that steady churchman with a 
 place of concealment, when, from his bold and busy temper, which 
 led him into the most extensive and hazardous machinations on 
 the King's behalf, he had been strictly sought after by the opposite 
 party. Of late, the inquest after him had died entirely away, as he 
 had prudently withdrawn himself from the scene of his intrigues. 
 Since the loss of the battle of Worcester, he had been afloat again, 
 and more active than ever ; and had, by friends and correspondents, 
 
 and especially the Bishop of , been the means of directing the 
 
 King's flight towards Woodstock, although it was not until the 
 very day of his arrival that he could promise him a safe reception 
 at that ancient mansion. 
 
 Albert Lee, though he revered both the undaunted spirit and 
 ready resources of the bustling and intriguing churchman, felt he 
 had not been enabled by him to answer some of Charles's ques- 
 tions yesternight, in a way so distinct as one trusted with the 
 King's safety ought to have done ; and it was now his object to 
 make himself personally acquainted, if possible, with the various 
 bearings of so weighty a matter, as became a man on whom so 
 much of the responsibility was likely to descend. 
 
 Even his local knowledge was scarce adequate to find the 
 Doctor's secret apartment, had he not traced his way after a genial 
 flavour of roasted game through divers blind passages, and up and 
 down certain very useless stairs, through cupboards and hatch- 
 ways, and so forth, to a species of sanctum sanctorum, where 
 Joceline Joliffe was ministering to the good doctor a solemn break- 
 fast of wild-fowl with a cup of small beer stirred with a sprig of 
 rosemary, which Doctor Rochediffe preferred to all strong pota- 
 tions. Beside him sat Bevis on his tail, slobbering and looking 
 amiable, moved by the rare smell of the breakfast, which had quite 
 overcome his native dignity of disposition. 
 
 The chamber in which the doctor had established himself was a 
 little octangular room, with walls of great thickness, within which 
 were fabricated various issues, leading in different directions, and 
 communicating with different parts of the building. Around him 
 were packages with arms, and near him one small barrel, as it 
 seemed, of gunpowder; many papers in different parcels, and 
 several keys for correspondence in cipher; two or three scrolls 
 covered with hieroglyphics were also beside him, which Albert took 
 for plans of nativity ; and various models of machinery, in which 
 Doctor Roch^cliffe was an adept. There were also tools of vajioiis 
 
WOODSTOCK. 26s 
 
 kinds, masks, cloaks, and a dark lantern, and a number of other 
 indescribable trinkets belonging to the trade of a daring plotter in 
 dangerous times. Last, there was a casket with gold and silver 
 coin of different countries, which was left carelessly open, as if it 
 were the least of Doctor Rochecliffe's concern, although his habits 
 in general announced narrow circumstances, if not actual poverty. 
 Close by the divine's plate lay a Bible and Prayerbook, with some 
 proof-sheets, as they are technically called, seemingly fresh from 
 the press. There was also within the reach of his hand a dirk, or 
 Scottish poniard, a powder-horn, and a musketoon, or blunderbuss, 
 with a pair of handsome pocket-pistols. In the midst of this mis- 
 cellaneous collection, the doctor sat eating his breakfast, with great 
 appetite, as little dismayed by the various implements of danger 
 around him, as a workman is when accustomed to the perils of a 
 gunpowder manufactory. 
 
 " Soh, young gentleman," he said, getting up and extending his 
 hand, " are you come to breakfast with me in good fellowship, or 
 to spoil my meal this morning, as you did my supper last night, by 
 asking untimely questions ? " 
 
 " I will pick a bone with you, with all my heart," said Albert ; 
 " and if you please, doctor, I would ask some questions which 
 seem not quite untimely." 
 
 So saying, he sat down, and assisted the doctor in giving a very 
 satisfactory account of a brace of wild-ducks and a leash of teal. 
 Bevis, who maintained his place with great patience and insinua- 
 tion, had his share of a coUop, which was also placed on the well- 
 furnished board ; for, like most high-bred dogs, he declined eating 
 waterfowl. 
 
 " Come hither, then, Albert Lee," said the doctor, laying ctown 
 his knife and fork, and plucking the towel from his throat, so soon 
 as Joceline was withdrawn ; " thou art still the same lad thou wert 
 when I was thy tutor — never satisfied with having got a grammar 
 rule, but always persecuting me with questions why the rule stood 
 so, and not otherwise— over-curious after information which thou 
 couldst not comprehend, as Bevis slobbered and whined for the 
 duck- wing, which he could not eat." 
 
 " I hope you will find me more reasonable, doctor," answered 
 Albert ; " and at the same time, that you will recollect I am not 
 now sub ferula, but am placed in circumstances where I am not 
 at liberty to act upon the ipse dixit of any man, unless my own 
 judgment be convinced, I shall deserve richly to be hanged, 
 drawn, and quartered, should any misfortune happen by my mis- 
 government in this business." 
 
 " And it is therefore, Albert, that I would have thee trust the 
 whole to me, without interfering. Thou sayest, forsooth, thou art 
 
266 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 not sub ferula J but recollect that while you have been fighting in 
 the field, I have been plotting in the study — that I know all the 
 combinations of the King's friends, ay, and all the motions of his 
 enemies, as well as a spider knows every mesh of his web. Think 
 of my experience, man. Not a cavalier in the land but has heard 
 of Rochecliffe the Plotter. I have been a main limb in every thing 
 that has been attempted since forty-two — penned declarations, 
 conducted correspondence, communicated with chiefs, recruited 
 followers, commissioned arms, levied money, appointed ren- 
 dezvouses. I was in the Western Rising ; and before that, in the 
 City Petition, and in Sir John Owen's stir in Wales ; in short, 
 almost in every plot for the King, since Tomkins and Challoner's 
 matter." 
 
 " But were not all these plots unsuccessful ? " said Albert ; " and 
 were not Tomkins and Challoner hanged, doctor ? ' 
 
 " Yes, my young friend," answered the doctor, gravely, " as many 
 others have been with whom I have acted ; but only because they 
 did not follow my advice implicitly. You never heard that I was 
 hanged myself." 
 
 " The time may come, doctor," said Albert ; " the pitcher goes 
 oft to the well — The proverb, as my father would say, is somewhat 
 musty. But I, too, have some confidence in my own judgment ; 
 and, much as I honour the church, I cannot altogether subscribe 
 to passive obedience. I will tell you in one word what points I must 
 have explanation on ; and it will remain with you to give it, or to 
 return a message to the King that you will not explain your plan ; 
 in which case, if he acts by my advice, he will leave Woodstock, 
 and resume his purpose of getting to the coast without delay." 
 
 " Well, then," said the doctor, " thou suspicious monster, make 
 thy demands, and, if they be such as I can answer without betray- 
 ing confidence, I will reply to them." 
 
 " In the first place, then, what is all this story about ghosts, 
 and witchcrafts, and apparitions ? and do you consider it as safe 
 for his Majesty to stay in a house subject to such visitations, real or 
 pretended ? " 
 
 " You must be satisfied with my answer in verba saccrdotis — the 
 circumstances you allude to will not give the least annoyance to 
 Woodstock during the King's residence. I cannot explain farther ; 
 but for this I will be bound, at the risk of my neck." 
 
 " Then," said Lee, we must take Doctor Rochecliffe's bail that 
 the devil will keep the peace towards our Sovereign Lord the King 
 —good. Now there lurked about this house the greater part of 
 yesterday, and perhaps slept here, a fellow called Tomkins— a bitter 
 Independent, and a secretary, or clerk, or something or other, to 
 the regicide dog Desbprough. The man is well known— a wild 
 
WOODSTOCK. 267 
 
 ranter in religious opinions, but in private affairs far-sighted, 
 cunning, and interested even as any rogue of them all," 
 
 " Be assured we will avail ourselves of his crazy fanaticism to 
 mislead his wicked cunning ; — a child may lead a hog if it has wit 
 to fasten a cord to the ring in its nose," replied the doctor. 
 
 " You may be deceived," said Albert ; " the age has many such 
 as this fellow, whose views of the spiritual and temporal world are 
 so different, that they resemble the eyes of a squinting man ; one of 
 which, oblique and distorted, sees nothing but the end of his nose, 
 while the other, instead of partaking the same defect, views strongly, 
 sharply, and acutely, whatever is subjected to its scrutiny." 
 
 " But we will put a patch on the better eye," said the doctor, 
 " and he shall only be allowed to speculate with the imperfect optic. 
 You must know, this fellow has always seen the greatest number, 
 and the most hideous apparitions ; he has not the courage of a cat 
 in such matters, though stout enough when he hath temporal 
 antagonists before him, I have placed him under the charge of 
 Joceline Joliffe, who, betwixt plying him with sack and ghost- 
 stories, would make him incapable of knowing what was done, if 
 you were to proclaim the King in his presence." 
 
 " But why keep such a fellow here at all ? " 
 
 " Oh, sir, content you ; — he lies leaguer, as a sort of ambassador 
 for his worthy masters, and we are secure from any intrusion so 
 long as they get all the news of Woodstock from trusty Tomkins." 
 
 "I know Joceline:'s honesty well," said Albert; "and if he can 
 assure me that he will keep a watch over this fellow, I will so far 
 trust in him. He does not know the depth of the stake, 'tis true, 
 but that my life is concerned will be quite enough to keep him 
 vigilant. Well, then, I proceed : — What if Markham Everard 
 comes down on us ? " 
 
 " We have his word to the contrary," answered Rochecliffe — 
 "his word of honour transmitted by his friend ; — Do you think it 
 likely he will break it ? " 
 
 " I hold him incapable of doing so," answered Albert ; " and, 
 besides, I think Markham would make no bad use of any thing 
 which might come to his knowledge — Yet God forbid we should be 
 under the necessity of trusting any who ever wore the Parliament's 
 colours in a matter of such dear concernment ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said the doctor. — " Are your doubts silenced now ? " 
 
 " I stiU have an objection," said Albert, " to yonder impudent 
 rakehelly fellow, styling himself a cavalier, who pushed himself on 
 our company last night, and gained my father's heart by a story of 
 the storm of Brentford, which I dare say the rogue never saw." 
 
 " You mistake him, dear Albert," rephed Rochecliffe — " Roger 
 Wildrake, although till of late I only knew hirn by name, is a 
 
268 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 gentleman, was bred at the Inns of Court, and spent his estate in 
 the King's service." 
 
 " Or rather in the devil's service," said Albert, " It is such 
 fellows as he, who, sunk from the license of their military habits 
 into idle debauched ruffians, infest the land with riots and robberies, 
 brawl in hedge alehouses and cellars where strong waters are sold 
 at midnight, and, with their deep oaths, their hot loyalty, and 
 their drunken valour, make decent men abominate the very name 
 of cavalier." 
 
 "Alas ! " said the doctor, " it is but too true ; but what can you 
 expect? When the higher and more qualified classes are broken 
 dowji and mingled undistinguishably with the lower orders, they 
 are apt to lose the most valuable marks: of their quality in the 
 general confusion of morals and manners — -just as a handful of 
 silver medals will become defaced and discoloured if jumbled about 
 among the vulgar copper coin. Even the prime medal of all, which 
 we royalists would so willingly wear next our very hearts, has not, 
 perhaps, entirely escaped some deterioration — But let other tongues 
 than mine speak on that subject. 
 
 Albert Lee paused deeply after having heard these communica- 
 tions on the part of RocheclifFe. — " Doctor," he said, " it is 
 generally agreed, even by some who think you may occasionally 
 have been a little over busy in putting men upon dangerous 
 actions " 
 
 " May God forgive them who entertain so false an opinion of 
 me ! " said the doctor. 
 
 " That, nevertheless, you have done and suffered more in 
 
 the King's behalf than any man of your function." 
 
 " They do me but justice there," said Doctor Rochecliffe — 
 " absolute justice." 
 
 " I am therefore disposed to abide by your opinion, if, all 
 things considered, you think it safe that we should remain at 
 Woodstock." 
 
 " That is not the question," answered the divine. 
 
 " And what is the question, then ? " replied the young soldier. 
 
 "Whether any safer course can be pointed out. I grieve to 
 say, that the question must be comparative, as to the point of 
 option. Absolute safety is— alas the while !— out of the question 
 on all sides. Now, I say Woodstock is, fenced and guarded as at 
 present, by far the most preferable place of concealment." 
 
 " Enough," replied Albert, " I give up to you the question, as to 
 a person whose knowledge of such important affairs, not to mention 
 your age and experience, is more intimate and extensive than mine 
 can be." 
 
 "You do well," answered Rochecliffe ; "and if others had acted 
 
WOODSTOCK. 269 
 
 with the like distrust of their own knowledge, and confidence in 
 competent persons, it had been better for the age. This makes 
 Understanding bar himself up within his fortalice, and Wit betake 
 himself to his high tower." (Hete he looked around his cell with 
 an air of self-complacence.) " The wise man forseeth the tempest, 
 and hideth himself" 
 
 " Doctor," said Albert, "let out foresight serve others far more 
 precious than either of us. — Let me ask you, if you have well con- 
 sidered whether our precious charge should remain in society with 
 the family, or betake himself to some of the more hidden corners 
 of the house ? " 
 
 " Hum ! " said the Doctor, with an air of deep reilection — " I 
 think he will be safest as Louis Kerneguy, keeping himself close 
 beside you "^^ 
 
 " I fear it will be necessary,'' added Albert, " that I scout abroad 
 a little, and show myself in some distant part of the country, lest, 
 coming here in quest of me, they should find higher game." 
 
 " Pray do not interrupt me — Keeping himself close beside you or 
 your father, in or near to Victor Lee's apartment, from which you 
 are aware he can make a ready escape, should danger approach. — 
 This occurs to me as best for the present — I hope to hear of the 
 vessel to-day — to-morrow at farthest." 
 
 Albert Lee bid the active but opinionated man good-morrow ; 
 admiring how this species of intrigue had becoine a sort of element 
 in which the doctor seemed to enjoy himself, notwithstanding all 
 that the poet has said concerning the horrors which intervene 
 betwixt the conception and execution of a conspiracy. 
 
 In returning from Doctor Rochecliffe's sanctuary, he met with 
 Joceline, who waS anxiously seeking him. " The young Scotch 
 gentleman," he said, in a mysterious manner, " has arisen from bed, 
 and, hearing me pass, he called me into his apartment." 
 
 "Well," replied Albert, " I will see him presently." 
 
 "And he asked me for fresh linen and clothes. Now, sir, he is 
 like a man who is quite accustomed to be obeyed, so I gave him a 
 suit which happened to be in a wardrobe in the west tower, and 
 some of your linen to conform ; and when he was dressed, he com- 
 manded me to show him to the presence of Sir Henry Lee and my 
 young lady. — I would have said something, sir, about waiting till 
 you came back, but he pulled me good-naturedly by the hair, (as 
 indeed, he has a rare humour of his own,) and told me, he was 
 guest to Master Albert Lee, and not his prisoner ; — so, sir, though 
 I thought you might be displeased with me for giving him the 
 means of stirring abroad, and perhaps being seen by those who 
 should not sae him, what could I say ? " 
 
 "You are a sensible fellow, Joceline, and comprehend always 
 
ajo WOODSTOCK. 
 
 what is recommended to you. — This youth will not be controlled, I 
 fear, by either of us ; but we must look the closer after his safety — 
 You keep your watch over that prying fellow the steward ? " 
 
 " Trust him to my care — on that side have no fear.— But all, 
 sir ? I would we had the young Scot in his old clothes again, for 
 the riding-suit of yours which he now wears hath set him off in 
 other-guess fashion." 
 
 From the manner in which the faithful dependent expressed 
 himself, Albert saw that he suspected who the Scottish page in 
 reality was ; yet he did not think it proper to acknowledge to him 
 a fact of such importance, secure as he was equally of his fidelity, 
 whether explicitly trusted to the full extent, or left to his own con- 
 jectures. Full of anxious thought, he went to the apartment of 
 Victor Lee, in which Joliffe told him he would find the party 
 assembled. The sound of laughter, as he laid his hand on the 
 lock of the door, almost made him start, so singularly did it jar 
 with the doubtful and melancholy reflections which engaged his 
 own mind. He entered, and found his father in high good-humour, 
 laughing and conversing freely with his young charge, whose 
 appearance was, indeed, so much changed to the better in externals, 
 that it seemed scarce possible a night's rest, a toilet, and a suit of 
 decent clothes, could have done so much in his favour in so short 
 a time. It could not, however, be imputed to the mere alteration 
 of dress, although that, no doubt, had its effect. There was 
 nothing splendid in that which Louis Kerneguy (we continue to 
 call him by his assumed name) now wore. It was merely a riding- 
 suit of grey cloth, with some silver lace, in the fashion of a country 
 gentleman of the time. But it happened to fit him very well, and 
 to become his very dark complexion, especially as he now held up 
 his head, andused the manners, not only of a well-behaved but of 
 a highly-accomplished gentleman. When he moved, his clumsy 
 and awkward limb was exchanged for a sort of shuffle, which, as it 
 might be the consequence of a wound in those perilous times, had 
 rather an interesting than an ungainly effect. At least it was as 
 genteel an expression that the party had been overhard travelled, 
 as the most polite pedestrian could propose to himself. 
 
 The features of the Wanderer were harsh as ever, but his red 
 shock peruke, for such it proved, was laid aside, his sable elf-locks 
 were trained, by a little of Joceline's assistance, into curls, and his 
 fine black eyes shone from among the shade of these curls, and 
 corresponded with the animated, though not handsome, character 
 of the whole head. In his conversation, he had laid aside all the 
 coarseness of dialect which he had so strongly affected on the pre- 
 ceding evening ; and although he continued to speak a little Scotch, 
 for the support of his character as a young gentleman of that 
 
WOODSTOCK. 271 
 
 nation, yet it was not in a degree which rendered his speech either 
 uncouth or unintelligible, but merely afforded a certain Doric tinge 
 essential to the personage he represented. No person on earth 
 could better understand the society in which he moved ; exile had 
 made him acquainted with life in all its shades and varieties — his 
 spirits, if not uniform, were elastic — he had that species of Epicu- 
 rean philosophy, which, even in the most extreme difficulties and 
 dangers, can in an interval of ease, however brief, avail itself of the 
 enjoyments of the moment — he was, in short, in youth and mis- 
 fortune, as afterwards in his regal condition, a good-humoured but 
 hard-hearted voluptuary — wise, save where his passions intervened 
 • — beneficent, save when prodigality had deprived him of the means, 
 or prejudice of the wish, to confer benefits — his faults such as might 
 often have drawn down hatred, but that they were mingled with so 
 much urbanity, that the injured person felt it impossible to retain 
 the full sense of his wrongs. 
 
 Albert Lee found the party, consisting of his father, sister, and 
 the supposed page, seated by the breakfast-table, at which he also 
 took his place. He was a pensive and anxious beholder of what 
 passed, while the page, who had already completely gained the 
 heart of the good old cavalier, by mimicking the manner in 
 which the Scottish divines preached in favour of Ma gude Lord 
 Marquis of Argyle and the Solemn League and Covenant, was now 
 endeavouring to interest the fair Alice by such anecdotes, partly of 
 warlike and perilous adventure, as possessed the same degree of 
 interest for the female ear which they have had ever since Des- 
 demona's days. But it was not only of dangers by land and sea 
 that the disguised page spoke ; but much more, and much oftener, 
 on foreign revels, banquets, balls, where the pride of France, of 
 Spain, or of the Low Countries, was exhibited in the eyes of their 
 most eminent beauties. Alice being a very young girl, who, in con- 
 sequence of the Civil War, had been almost entirely educated in 
 the country, and often in great seclusion, it was certainly no wonder 
 that she should listen with willing ears, and a ready smile, to what 
 the young gentleman, their guest, and her brother's protegd, told 
 with so much gaiety, and mingled with such a shade of dangerous 
 adventure, and occasionally of serious reflection, as prevented the 
 discourse from being regarded as merely light and frivolous. 
 
 In a word. Sir Henry Lee laughed, Alice smiled from time to 
 time, and all were satisfied but Albert, who would himself, how- 
 ever, have been scarce able to allege a sufficient reason for his 
 depression of spirits. 
 
 The materials of breakfast were at last removed, under the 
 active superintendence of the neat-handed Phoebe, who looked over 
 her shoulder, and lingered more than once, to listen to the fluent 
 
275 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 discourse of their new guest, whom, on the preceding evening, she 
 had, while in attendance at supper, accounted one of the most 
 stupid inmates to whom the gates of Woodstock had been opened 
 since the times of Fair Rosamond. 
 
 Louis Kerneguy then, when they were left only four in the 
 chamber, without the interruption of domestics, and the successive 
 bustle occasioned by the discussion and removal of the morning 
 meal, became apparently sensible, that his friend and ostensible 
 patron Albert ought not altogether to be suffered to drop to lee- 
 ward in the conversation, while he was himself successfully engag- 
 ing the attention of those members of his family to whom he had 
 become so recently known. He went behind his chair, therefore, 
 and, leaning on the back, said with a good-humoured tone, which 
 made his purpose entirely intelligible, — 
 
 " Either my good friend, guide, and patron, has heard worse 
 news this morning than he cares to tell us, or he must have 
 stumbled over my tattered jerkin and leathern hose, and acquired, 
 by contact, the whole mass of stupidity which I threw off last 
 night with those most dolorous garments. Cheer up, my dear 
 Colonel Albert, if your affectionate page may presume to say so — 
 you are in company with those whose society, dear to strangers, 
 must be doubly so to you. Odds-fish, man, cheer up ! I have 
 seen you gay on a biscuit and a mouthful of water-cresses — don't 
 let your heart fail you on Rhenish wine and venison." 
 
 " Dear Louis," said Albert, rousing himself into exertion, and 
 somewhat ashamed of his own silence, " I have slept worse, and 
 been astir earlier than you." 
 
 " Be it so," said his father ,• " yet I hold it no good excuse for 
 your sullen silence. Albert, you have met your sister and me, so 
 long separated from you, so anxious on your behalf, almost like 
 mere strangers, and yet you are returned safe to us, and you find 
 us well." 
 
 " Returned indeed — but for safety, my dear father, that word 
 must be a stranger to us Worcester folk for some time. However, 
 it is not my own safety about which I am anxious." 
 
 " About whose, then, should you be anxious ? — All accounts 
 agree that the King is safe out of the dogs' jaws." 
 
 " Not without some danger, though," muttered Louis, thinking of 
 his encounter with Bevis on the preceding evening. 
 
 " No, not without danger, indeed," echoed the knight ; " but, as 
 old Will says, — 
 
 ' There's such divinity doth hedge a king. 
 That treason dares not peep at what it would.' 
 
 No, no— thank God, that's cared for ; our Hope and Fortune is 
 
WOODSTOCK. 273 
 
 escaped, so all news affirm, escaped from Bristol — if I thought 
 otherwise, Albert, I should be as sad as you are. For the rest of 
 it, I have lurked a month in this house when discovery would have 
 been death, and that is no longer since than after Lord Holland 
 and the Duke of Buckingham's rising at Kingston ; and hang me, 
 if I thought once of twisting my brow into such a tragic fold as 
 yours, but cocked my hat at misfortune as a cavaUer should." 
 
 " If I might put in a word," said Louis, " it would be to assure 
 Colonel Albert Lee that I verily believe the King would think his 
 own hap, wherever he may be, much the worse that his best sub- 
 jects were seized with dejection on his account." 
 
 " You answer boldly on the King's part, young man," said Sir 
 Henry. 
 
 " Oh, my father was meikle about the King's hand," answered 
 Louis, recollecting his present character. 
 
 " No wonder, then," said Sir Henry, " that you have so soon 
 recovered your good spirits and good breeding, when you heard of 
 his Majesty's escape. Why, you are no more like the lad we saw 
 last night, than the best hunter I ever had was like a dray- 
 horse." 
 
 " Oh, there is much in rest, and food, and grooming," answered 
 Louis. " You would hardly know the tired jade you dismounted 
 from last night, when she is brought out prancing and neighing the 
 next morning, rested, refreshed, and ready to start again — espe- 
 cially if the brute hath some good blood, for such pick up unco 
 fast." 
 
 " Well, then, but since thy father was a courtier, and thou hast 
 learned, I think, something of the trade, tell us a little, Master 
 Kerneguy, about him we love most to hear about — the King ; we 
 are all safe and secret, you need not be afraid. He was a hopeful 
 youth ; I trust his flourishing blossom now gives promise of 
 fruit?" 
 
 As the knight spoke, Louis bent his eyes on the ground, and 
 seemed at first uncertain what to answer. But admirable at ex- 
 tricating himself from such dilemmas, he replied, " That he really 
 could not presume to speak on such a subject in the presence 
 of his patron. Colonel Albert Lee, who must be a much better 
 judge of the character of King Charles than he could pretend 
 to be." 
 
 Albert was accordingly next assailed by the knight, seconded by 
 Alice, for some account of his Majesty's character. 
 
 " I will speak but according to facts," said Albert ; " and then 
 I must be acquitted of partiahty. If the King had not possessed 
 enterprise and military skill, he never would have attempted the 
 expedition to Worcester; — had he not had personal courage, he 
 
 T 
 
274 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 had not so long disputed the battle that Cromwell almosi judged 
 it lost. That he possesses prudence and patience, must be argued 
 from the circumstances attending his flight ; and that he has the 
 love of his subjects, is evident, since, necessarily known to many, 
 he has been betrayed by none." 
 
 " For shame, Albert ! " replied his sister ; " is that the way a 
 good cavalier doles out the character of his Prince, applying an 
 instance at every concession, like a pedlar measuring linen with 
 his rod? — Out upon you !— no wonder you were beaten, if you 
 fought as coldly for your King as you now talk for him." 
 
 " I did my best to trace a likeness from what I have seen and 
 known of the original, sister Alice," replied her brother. — " If 
 you would have a fancy portrait, you must get an artist of more 
 imagination than I have to draw it for you." 
 
 " I will be that artist myself," said Alice, " and, in my portrait, 
 our Monarch shall show all that he ought to be, having such 
 high pretensions — all that he must be, being so loftily descended 
 — all that I am sure he is, and that every loyal heart in the 
 kingdom ought to believe him." 
 
 " Well said, Alice," quoth the old knight. — " Look thou upon 
 this picture, and on this! — Here is our young friend shall judge." 
 I wager my best nag — that is, I would wager him had I one left 
 — that Alice proves the better painter of the two. — My son's 
 brain is still misty, I think, since his defeat — he has not got the 
 smoke of Worcester out of it. Plague on thee !— a young man, 
 and cast down for one beating ! Had you been banged twenty 
 times like me, it had been time to look grave. — But come, Alice, 
 forward ; the colours are mixed on your pallet — forward with 
 something that shall show like one of Vandyke's living portraits, 
 placed beside the dull dry presentation there of our ancestor 
 Victor Lee." 
 
 Alice, it must be observed, had been educated by her father 
 in the notions of high, and even exaggerated loyalty, which cha- 
 racterised the cavaliers, and she was really an enthusiast in the 
 royal cause. But besides, she was in good spirits at her brother's 
 happy return, and .wished to prolong the gay humour, in which 
 her father had of late scarcely ever indulged. 
 
 "Well then," she said, "though I am no Apelles, I will try 
 to paint an Alexander, such as I hope, and am determined to 
 believe, exists in the person of our exiled sovereign, soon I trust to 
 be restored. And I will not go farther than his own family. He 
 shall have all the chivalrous courage, all the warlike skill, of 
 Henry of France, his grandfather, in order to place him on the 
 throne ; — all his ibenevolence, love of his people, patience, even 
 of unpleasing advice, sacrifice of his own wishes and pleasures 
 
WOODSTOCK. 273 
 
 to the commonweal, that, seated there, he may be blest while 
 living, and so long remembered when dead, that for ages after 
 it shall be thought sacrilege to breathe an aspersion against the 
 throne which he has occupied ! Long after he is dead, while there 
 remains an old man who has seen him, were the condition of 
 that survivor no higher than a groom or a menial, his age shall be 
 provided for at the public charge, and his grey hairs regarded with 
 more distinction than an earl's coronet, because he remembers the 
 second Charles, the monarch of every heart in England ! " 
 
 While Alice spoke, she was hardly conscious of the presence of 
 any one save her father and brother j for the page withdrew him- 
 self somewhat from the circle, and there was nothing to remind 
 her of him. She gave the reins, therefore, to her enthusiasm, and 
 as the tears glittered in her eye, and her beautiful features became 
 animated, she seemed like a descended cherub proclaiming the 
 virtues of a patriot monarch. The person chiefly interested in her 
 description held himself back, as we have said, and concealed his 
 own features, yet so as to preserve a full view of the beautiful 
 speaker. 
 
 Albert Lee, conscious in whose presence this eulogium was pro- 
 nounced, was much embarrassed ; but his father, all whose feelings 
 were flattered by the panegyric, was in rapture. 
 
 " So much for the King, Alice," he said ; " and now for the 
 Man!' 
 
 " For the man," replied Alice in the same tone, " need I wish 
 him more than the paternal virtues of his unhappy father, of whom 
 his worst enemies have recorded, that if moral virtues and religious 
 faith were to be selected as the qualities which merited a crown, no 
 man could plead the possession of them in a higher or more 
 indisputable degree. Temperate, wise, and frugal, yet munificent 
 in rewarding merit — a friend to letters and the muses, but a severe 
 discourager of the misuse of such gifts — a worthy gentleman — a 
 kind master — the best friend, the best father, the best Chris- 
 
 tiati" Her voice began to falter, and her fatlfer's handkerchief 
 
 was already at his eyes. 
 
 " He was, girl— he was ! " exclaimed Sir Henry ; " but no more 
 on't, I charge ye — no more on't — enough ; — let his son but possess 
 his virtues, with better advisers, and better fortunes, and he will be 
 all that England, in her warmest wishes, could desire." 
 
 There was a pause after this ; for Alice felt as if she had spoken 
 too frankly and too zealously, for her sex and youth. Sir Henry 
 was occupied in melancholy recollections on the fate of his late 
 sovereign, while Kerneguy and his supposed patron felt embar- 
 rassed, perhaps from a consciousness that the real Charles fell far 
 short of his ideal character, as designed in such glowing colours > 
 
876 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 In some cases, exaggerated or unappropriate praise becomes the 
 most severe satire. 
 
 But such reflections were not of a nature to be long willingly 
 cherished by the person, to whom they might have been of great 
 advantage. He assumed a tone of raillery, which is, perhaps, the 
 readiest mode of escaping from the feelings of self-reproof. 
 " Every cavalier," he said, " should bend his knee to thank Mis- 
 tress Alice Lee -for having made such a flattering portrait of the 
 King their master, by laying under contribution for his benefit the 
 virtues of all his ancestors ; — only there was one point he would 
 not have expected a female painter to have passed over in silence. 
 When she made him, in right of his grandfather and father, a 
 muster of royal and individual excellences, why could she not have 
 endowed him at the same time with his mother's personal charms ? 
 — Why should not the son of Henrietta Maria, the finest woman 
 of her day, add the recommendations of a handsome face and 
 figure to his internal qualities ?— he had the same hereditary title to 
 good looks as to mental qualifications ; and the picture, with such 
 an addition, would be perfect in its way— and God send it might be 
 a resemblance ! " 
 
 " I understand you, Master Kemeguy," said Alice, " but I am no 
 fairy, to bestow, as those do in the nursery tales, gifts which Pro- 
 vidence has denied. I am woman enough to have made enquiries 
 on the subject, and I know the general report is, that the King, to 
 have been the son of such handsome parents, is unusually hard- 
 favoured." 
 
 " Good God, sister ! " said Albert, starting impatiently fronv his 
 seat. 
 
 " Why, you youfself told me so," said Alice, surprised at the 
 emotion he testified ; " and you said "-^— 
 
 " This is intolerable," muttered Albert — " I must out to speak 
 with Joceline without delay — Louis," (with an imploring look to 
 Kemeguy,) " you will surely come with me ? " 
 
 " I would with all my heart," said Kemeguy, smiling maliciously; 
 " but you see how I suffer still from lameness. — Nay, nay, Albert," 
 he whispered, resisting young Lee's attempts to prevail on him to 
 leave the room, " can you suppose I am fool enough to be hurt by 
 this ?— on the contrary, I have a desire of profiting by it." 
 
 " May God grant it ! " said Lee to himself, as he left the room 
 — "it will be the first lecture you ever profited by; and the devil 
 confound the plots and plotters who made me bring you to this 
 place ! " So saying, he carried his discontent forth into the 
 Park. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 277 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 For there, they say, he daily doth frequent 
 With unrestrained loose companions ; 
 While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy, 
 Takes on the point of honour, to support 
 So dissolute a crew. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 TrtE conversation which Albert had in vain endeavoured to 
 interrupt, flowed on in the same course after he had left the room. 
 It entertained Louis Kerneguy ; for personal vanity, or an over 
 sensitiveness to deserved reproof, were not among the faults of his 
 character, and were indeed incompatible with an understanding, 
 which, combined with more strength of principle, steadiness of 
 exertion, and self-denial, might have placed Charles high on the 
 list of English monarchs. On the other hand, Sir Henry listened 
 with natural delight to the noble sentiments uttered by a being so 
 beloved as his daughter. His own parts were rather steady than 
 brilliant ; and he had that species of imagination which is not 
 easily excited without the action of another, as the electrical globe 
 only scintillates when rubbed against its cushion. He was well 
 pleased, therefore, when Kerneguy pursued the conversation, by 
 observing that Mistress Alice Lee had not explained how the same 
 good fairy that conferred moral qualities, could not also remove 
 corporeal blemishes. 
 
 " You mistake, sir," said Ahce. " I confer nothing. I do but 
 attempt to paint our King such as I hope he is — such as I am sure 
 he may be, should he himself desire to be so. The same general 
 report which speaks of his countenance as unprepossessing, de- 
 scribes his talents as being of the first order. He has, therefore, 
 the means of arriving at excellence, should he cultivate them sedu- 
 lously and employ them usefully — should he rule his passions and 
 be guided by his understanding. Every good man cannot be wise ; 
 but it is in the power of every wise man, if he pleases, to be as 
 eminent for virtue as for talent." 
 
 Young Kerneguy rose briskly, and took a turn through the room ; 
 and ere the knight could make' any observation on the singular 
 vivacity in which he had indulged, he threw himself again into his 
 chair, and said, in rather an altered tone of voice—" It seems, then, 
 Mistress Alice Lee, that the good friends who have described this 
 poor King to you, have been as unfavourable in their account of 
 his morals as of his person ? " 
 
 " The truth must be better known to you, sir," said Alice, " than 
 
378 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 it can be to me. Some rumours there have been which accuse him 
 of a license, which, whatever allowance flatterers make for it, does 
 not, to say the least, become the son of the Martyr — I shall be 
 happy to have these contradicted on good authority." 
 
 " I am surprised at your folly," said Sir Henry Lee, " in hinting 
 at such things, Alice ; a pack of scandal, invented by the rascals 
 who have usurped the government — a thing devised by the enemy." 
 
 " Nay, sir," said Kerneguy, laughing, " we must not let our zeal 
 charge the enemy with more scandal than they actually deserve. 
 Mistress Alice has put the question to me. I can only answer, that 
 no one can be more devotedly attached to the King than I myself, 
 — that I am very partial to his merits and blind to his defects ; — 
 and that, in short, I would be the last man in the world to give up 
 Ais cause where it was tenable. Nevertheless, I must confess, that 
 if all his grandfather of Navarre's morals have not descended to 
 him, this poor King has somehow inherited a share of the specks 
 that were thought to dim the lustre of that great Prince — that 
 Charles is a little soft-hearted or so, where beauty is concerned. — 
 Do not blame him too severely, pretty Mistress Alice ; when a 
 man's hard fate has driven him among thorns, it were surely hard 
 to prevent him from trifling with the few roses he may find among 
 them ? " 
 
 Alice, who probably thought the conversation had gone far 
 enough, rose while Master Kerneguy was speaking, and was leav- 
 ing the room before he had finished, without apparently hearing 
 the interrogation with which he concluded. Her father approved 
 of her departure, not thinking the tarn which Kerneguy had given 
 to the discourse altogether fit for her presence ; and, desirous civilly 
 to break off' the conversation, " I see," he said, " this is about the 
 time, when, as Will says, the household affairs will call my daughter 
 hence ; I will therefore challenge you, young gentleman, to stretch 
 your limbs in a little exercise with me, either at single rapier, or 
 rapier and poniard, back-sword, spadroon, or your national wea- 
 pons of broadsword and target ; for all, or any of which, I think 
 we shall find implements in the hall." 
 
 It would be too high a distinction. Master Kerneguy said, for a 
 poor page to be permitted to try a passage of arms with a knight 
 so renowned as Sir Henry Lee, and he hoped to enjoy so great an 
 honour before he left Woodstock ; but at the present moment his 
 lameness continued to give him so much pain, that he should 
 shame himself in the attempt. 
 
 Sir Henry then offered to read him a play of Shakspeare, and 
 for this purpose turned up King Richard IL But hardly had he 
 commenced with 
 
 " Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster," 
 
WOODSTOCJC. 279 
 
 when the young gentleman was seized with such an incontroUable 
 fit of the cramp as could only be relieved by immediate exercise. 
 He therefore begged permission to be allowed to saunter abroad for 
 a little while, if Sir Henry Lee considered he might venture without 
 danger. 
 
 " I can answer for the two or three of our people that are still 
 left about the place," said Sir Henry ; " and I know my son has 
 disposed them so as to be constantly on the watch. If you hear 
 the bell toll at the Lodge, I advise you to come straight home by 
 the way of the King's oak, which you see in yonder glade towering 
 above the rest of the trees. We will have some one stationed there 
 to introduce you secretly into the house." 
 
 The page listened to these cautions with the impatience of a 
 schoolboy, who, desirous of enjoying his holiday, hears without 
 marking the advice of tutor or parent, about taking care not to 
 catch cold and so forth. 
 
 The absence of Alice Lee had removed all which had rendered 
 the interior of the Lodge agreeable, and the mercurial young page 
 fled with precipitation from the exercise and amusement which Sir 
 Henry had proposed.- He girded on his rapier, and threw his 
 cloak, or rather that which belonged to his borrowed suit, about 
 him, Winging up the lower part so as to mufHe the face and show 
 only the eyes over it, which was a common way of wearing them in 
 those days, both in streets, in the country, and in public places, 
 when men had a mind to be private, and to avoid interruption from 
 salutations and greetings in the market-place. He hurried across 
 the open space which divided the front of the Lodge from the 
 wood, with the haste of a bird escaped from the cage, which, though 
 joyful at its liberation, is at the same time sensible of its need of 
 protection and shelter. The wood seemed to afford these to the 
 human fugitive, as it might have done to the bird in question. 
 
 When under the shadow of the branches, and within the verge of 
 the forest, covered from observation, yet with the power of survey- 
 ing the front of the Lodge, and all the open ground before it, the 
 supposed Louis Kerneguy meditated on his escape. 
 
 " What an infliction — to fence with a gouty old man, who knows 
 not, I dare say, a trick of the sword, which was not familiar in the 
 days of old Vincent Saviolo ! or, as a change of rnisery, to hear him 
 read one of those wildernesses of scenes which the English call a 
 play, from prologue to epilogue — from Enter the first to the final 
 Exeunt omnes — an unparalleled horror — a penance which would 
 have made a dungeon darker, and added dulness even to Wood- 
 stock ! " 
 
 Here he stopped and looked around, and then continued his 
 meditations — " So then, it was here that the gay old Norman 
 
28o WOODSTOCK. 
 
 secluded his' pretty mistress— I warrant, without having seen her, 
 that Rosamond Clifford was never half so handsome as that lovely 
 Alice Lee. And what a soul there is in the girl's eye ! — ^with what 
 abandonment of all respects, save that expressing the interest of 
 the moment, she poured forth her tide of enthusiasm ! Were I to 
 be long here, in spite of prudence, and half-a-dozen very venerable 
 obstacles besides, I should be tempted to try to reconcile her to the 
 ndifferent visage of this same hard-favoured Prince. — Hard- 
 favoured i" — it is a kind of treason for one who pretends to so much 
 oyalty, to say so of the King's features, and in my mind deserves 
 punishment. Ah, pretty Mistress Alice ! many a Mistress Alice 
 before you has made dreadful exclamations on the irregularities of 
 mankind, and the wickedness of the age, and ended by being glad 
 to look out for apologies for their own share in them. But then 
 her father — the stout old cavalier — my father's old friend — should 
 such a thing befall, it would break his heart ! — Break a pudding's 
 end — he has more sense. If I give his grandson a title to quarter 
 the arms of England, what matter if a bar sinister is drawn across 
 them .' — Pshaw ! far from an abatement, it is a point of addition — 
 the heralds in their next visitation will place him higher in the roll 
 for it. Then, if he did wince a little at first, does not the old traitor 
 deserve it ; — first, for his disloyal intention of punching mine 
 anointed body black and blue with his vile foils — and secondly, his 
 atrocious complot with WiU Shakspeare, a fellow as much out of 
 date as himself, to read me to death with five acts of a historical 
 play, or chronicle, ' being the piteous Life and Death of Richard 
 the Second ?' Odds-fish, my own life is piteous enough, as I think; 
 and my death may match it, for aught I see coming yet. Ah, but 
 then the brother — my friend — my guide — my guard — So far as this 
 little proposed intrigue concerns him, such practising would be 
 thought not quite fair. But your bouncing, swaggering, revengeful 
 brothers exist only on the theatre. Your dire revenge, with which 
 a brother persecuted a poor fellow who had seduced his sister, or 
 been seduced by her, as the case might be, as relentlessly as if he 
 had trodden on his toes without making an apology, is entirely out 
 of fashion, since Dorset killed the Lord Bruce many a long year 
 since.* Pshaw ! when a King is the offender, the bravest man 
 sacrifices nothing by pocketing a little wrong which he cannot per- 
 sonally resent. And in France, there is not a noble house, where 
 each individual would not cock his hat an inch higher, if they 
 could boast of such a left-handed alliance with the Grand 
 Monarque." 
 
 Such were the thoughts which rushed through the mind of 
 Charles, at his first quitting the Lodge of Woodstock, and plunging 
 into the forest that surrounded it. His profligate logic, however, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 281 
 
 was not the result of his natural disposition, nor received without 
 scruple by his sound understanding. It was a train of reasoning 
 which he had been led to adopt from his too close intimacy with 
 the witty and profligate youth of quality by whom he had been 
 surrounded. It arose from the evil communication with Villiers, 
 Wilmot, Sedley, and others, whose genius was destined to corrupt 
 that age, and the Monarch on whom its character afterwards came 
 so much to depend. Such men, bred amidst the license of civil 
 war, and without experiencing that curb which in ordinary times 
 the authority of parents and relations imposes upon the headlong 
 passions of youth, were practised in every species of vice, and could 
 recommend it as well by precept as by example, turning into pitiless 
 ridicule all those nobler feelings which withhold men from gratify- 
 ing lawless passion. The events of the King's life had also favoured 
 his reception of this Epicurean doctrine. He saw himself, with the 
 highest claims to sympathy and assistance, coldly regarded by the 
 Courts which he visited, rather as a permitted suppliant, than an 
 exiled Monarch. He beheld his own rights and claims treated 
 with scorn and indifference ; and, in the same proportion, he was 
 reconciled to the hardhearted and selfish course of dissipation, 
 which promised him immediate indulgence. If this was obtained 
 at the expense of the happiness of others, should he of all men be 
 scrupulous upon the subject, since he treated others only as the 
 world treated him ? 
 
 But although the foundations of this unhappy system had been 
 laid, the Prince was not at this early period so fully devoted to it 
 as he was found to have become, when a door was unexpectedly 
 opened for his restoration. On the contrary, though the train of 
 gay reasoning which we have above stated, as if it had found vent 
 in uttered language, did certainly arise in his mind, as that which 
 would have been suggested by his favourite counsellors on such 
 occasions, he recollected that what might be passed over as a 
 peccadillo in France or the Netherlands, or turned into a diverting 
 novel or pasquinade by the wits of his own wandering Court, was 
 likely to have the aspect of horrid ingratitude and infamous 
 treachery among the English gentry, and would inflict a deep, 
 perhaps an incurable wound upon his interest, among the more 
 aged and respectable part of his adherents. Then it occurred to 
 him — for his own interest did not escape him, even in this mode of 
 considering the subject — that he was in the power of the Lees, 
 father and son, who were always understood to be at least suffi- 
 ciently punctilious on the score of honour ; and if they should 
 suspect such an affront as his imagination had conceived, they 
 could be at no loss to find means of the most ample revenge, either 
 by their own hands, qr by those of the ruling faction. 
 
2S2 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " The risk of re-opening the fatal window at Whitehall, and re- 
 newing the tragedy of the Man in the Mask, were a worse penalty," 
 was his final reflection, " than the old stool of the Scottish penance ; 
 and lovely though Alice Lee is, I cannot afford to intrigue at such 
 a hazard. So, farewell, pretty maiden ! unless, as sometimes has 
 happened, thou hast a humour to throw thyself at thy King's feet, 
 and then I am too magnanimous to refuse thee my protection. — 
 Yet, when I think of the pale clay-cold figure of the old man, as he 
 lay last night extended before me, and imagine the fury of Albert 
 Lee raging with impatience, his hand on a sword which only his 
 loyalty prevents him from plunging into his sovereign's heart,^nay, 
 the picture is too horrible ! Charles must for ever change his name 
 to Joseph, even if he were strongly tempted ; which may fortune in 
 mercy prohibit !" 
 
 To speak the truth of a Prince, more unfortunate in his early 
 companions, and the callousness which he acquired by his juvenile 
 adventures and irregular mode of life, than in his natural disposition, 
 Charles came the more readily to this wise conclusion, because he 
 was by no means subject to those violent and engrossing passions, 
 to gratify which the world has been thought well lost. His amours, 
 like many of the present day, were rather matters of habit and 
 fashion, than of passion and affection ; and, in comparing himself 
 in this respect to his grandfather Henry IV., he did neither his 
 ancestor nor himself perfect justice. He was, to parody the words 
 of a bard, himself actuated by the stormy passions which an 
 intriguer often only simulates, — 
 
 None of those who loved so kindly, 
 None of those who loved so blindly. — 
 
 An amour was with him a matter of amusement, a regular con- 
 sequence, as it seemed to him, of the ordinary course of things in 
 society. He was not at the trouble to practise seductive arts, 
 because he had seldom found occasion to make use of them ; his 
 high rank, and the profligacy of part of the female society with which 
 he had mingled, rendering them unnecessary. Added to this, he 
 had, for the same reason, seldom been crossed by the obstinate in- 
 terference of relations, or even of husbands, who had generally 
 seemed not unwilling to suffer such matters to take their course. 
 
 So that, notwithstanding his total looseness of principle, and sys- 
 tematic disbelief in the virtue of women and the honour of men, as 
 connected with the character of their female relatives, Charles was 
 not a person to have studiously introduced disgrace into a family, 
 where a conquest might have been violently disputed, attained with 
 difficulty, and accompanied with general distress, not to mention 
 the excitation of all fiercer passions against the author of the scandal. 
 
Woodstock. aSj 
 
 But the danger of the King's society consisted in his being much 
 of an unbeliever in the existence of such cases as were likely to be 
 embittered by remorse on the part of the principal victim, or ren- 
 dered perilous by the violent resentment of her connexions or 
 relatives. He had even already found such things treated on the 
 continent as matters of ordinary occurrence, subject, in all cases 
 where a man of high influence was concerned, to an easy arrange- 
 ment ; and he was really, generally speaking, sceptical on the sub- 
 ject of severe virtue in either sex, and apt to consider it as a veil 
 assumed by prudery in women, and hypocrisy in men, to extort a 
 higher reward for their compliance. 
 
 While we are discussing the character of his disposition to gal- 
 lantry, the Wanderer was conducted, by the walk he had chosen, 
 through several whimsical turns, until at last it brought him under 
 the windows of Victor Lee's apartment, where he descried Alice 
 watering and arranging some flowers placed on the Oriel window, 
 which was easily accessible by daylight, although at night he had 
 found it a dangerous attempt to scale it. But not Alice only, her 
 father also showed himself near the window, and beckoned him up. 
 The family party seemed now more promising than before, and the 
 fugitive Prince was weary of playing battledore and shuttlecock with 
 his conscience, and much disposed to let matters go as chance 
 should determine. 
 
 He climbed lightly up the broken ascent, and was readily wel- 
 comed by the old knight, who held activity in high honour. Alice 
 also seemed glad to see the lively and interesting young man ; and 
 by her presence, and the unaffected mirth with which she enjoyed 
 his sallies, he was animated to display those qualities of wit and 
 humour, which nobody possessed in a higher degree. 
 
 His satire delighted the old gentleman, who laughed till his eyes 
 ran over as he heard the youth, whose claims to his respect he little 
 dreamed of, amusing him with successive imitations of the Scottish 
 Presbyterian clergyman, of the proud and poor Hidalgo of the 
 North, of the fierce and overweening pride and Celtic dialect of the 
 mountain chief, of the slow and more pedantic Lowlander, with all 
 of which his residence in Scotland had made him familiar. Alice 
 also laughed and applauded, amused herself, and delighted to see 
 that her father was so ; and the whole party were in the highest 
 glee, when Albert Lee entered, eager to find Louis Kerneguy, and 
 to lead him away to a private colloquy with Doctor Rochecliffe, 
 whose zeal, assiduity, and wonderful possession of information, had 
 constituted him their master-pilot in those difficult times. 
 
 It is unnecessary to introduce the reader to the minute particulars 
 of their conference. The information obtained was so far favourable, 
 that the enemy seemed to have had no intelligence of the King's 
 
284 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 route towards the south, and remained persuaded that he had made 
 his escape from Bristol, as had been reported, and as had indeed 
 been proposed ; but the master of the vessel prepared for the King's 
 passage had taken the alarm, and sailed without his royal freight. 
 His departure, however, and the suspicion of the service in which 
 he was engaged, served to make the belief general, that the King 
 had gone off along with him. 
 
 But though this was cheering, the Doctor had more unpleasant 
 tidings from the sea-coast, alleging great difficulties in securing a 
 vessel, to which it might be fit to commit a charge so precious ; 
 and, above all, requesting his Majesty might on no account venture 
 to approach the shore, until he should receive advice that all the 
 previous arrangements had been completely settled. 
 
 No one was able to suggest a safer place of residence than that 
 which he at present occupied. Colonel Everard was deemed cer- 
 tainly not personally unfriendly to the King ; and. Cromwell, as was 
 supposed, reposed in Everard an unbounded confidence. The in- 
 terior presented numberless hiding-places, and secret modes of exit, 
 known to no one but the ancient residents of the Lodge— nay, far 
 better to Rochecliffe than to any of them ; as, when Rector at the 
 neighbouring town, his prying disposition as an antiquary had in- 
 duced him to make very many researches among the old ruins — 
 the results of which he was believed, in some instances, to have 
 kept to himself. 
 
 To balance these conveniences, it was no doubt true, that the 
 Parliamentary Commissioners were still at no great distance, and 
 would be ready to resume their authority upon the first opportunity. 
 But no one supposed such an opportunity was likely to occur ; and 
 all believed, as the influence of Cromwell and the army grew more 
 and more predominant, that the disappointed Commissioners would 
 attempt nothing in contradiction to his pleasure, but wait with 
 patience an indemnification in some other quarter for their vacated 
 commissions. Report, through the voice of Master Joseph Tom- 
 kins, stated, that they had determined, in the first place, to retire to 
 Oxford, and were making preparations accordingly. This promised 
 still farther to insure the security of Woodstock. It was therefore 
 settled, that the King, under the character of Louis Kemeguy, 
 should remain an inmate of the Lodge, until a vessel should be 
 procured for his escape, at the port which might be esteemed the 
 safest and most convenient. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 28S 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 The deadliest snakes are those which, twined 'mongst flowers, 
 Blend their bright colouring with the varied blossoms, 
 Their fierce eyes glittering like the spangled dew drop ; 
 In all so like what nature has most harmless. 
 That sportive innocence, which dreSds no danger. 
 Is poison'd unawares. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 Charles (we must now give him his own name) was easily 
 reconciled to the circumstances which rendered his residence at 
 Woodstock advisable. No doubt he would much rather have 
 secured his safety by making an immediate escape out of England ; 
 but he had been condemned already to many uncomfortable lurk- 
 ing-places, and more disagreeable disguises, as well as to long and 
 difficult journeys, during which, between pragmatical officers of 
 justice belonging to the prevailing party, and parties of soldiers 
 whose officers usually took on them to act on their own warrant, 
 risk of discovery had more than once become very imminent. He 
 was glad, therefore, of comparative repose, and of comparative 
 safety. 
 
 Then it must be considered, that Charles had been entirely 
 reconciled to the society at Woodstock since he had become 
 better acquainted with it. He had seen, that, to interest the 
 beautiful Alice, and procure a great deal of her company, nothing 
 more was necessary than to submit to the humours, and cultivate 
 the intimacy, of the old cavalier her father. A few bouts at fencing, 
 in which Charles took care not to put out his more perfect skill, and 
 full youthful strength and activity — the endurance of a few scenes 
 from Shakspeare, which the knight read with more zeal than taste 
 — a little skill in music, in which the old man had been a proficient 
 — the deference paid to a few old-fashioned opinions, at which 
 Charles laughed in his sleeve — were all sufficient to gain for the 
 disguised Prince an interest in Sir Henry Lee, and to conciliate in 
 an equal degree the good-will of his lovely daughter. 
 
 Never were there two young persons who could be said to 
 commence this species of intimacy with such unequal advantages. 
 Charles was a libertine, who, if he did not in cold blood resolve 
 upon prosecuting his passion for Alice to a dishonourable con- 
 clusion, was at every moment liable to be provoked to attempt the 
 strength of a virtue, in which he was no believer. Then Alice, on 
 her part, hardly knew even what was implied by the word libertine 
 or seducer. Her mother had died early in the conmiencement of 
 
286 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the Civjl War, and she had been bred up chiefly with her brother 
 and cousin ; so that she had an unfearing and unsuspicious frank- 
 ness of maimer, upon which Charles was not unwilling or unlikely 
 to put a construction favourable to his own views. Even Alice's 
 love for her cousin — the first sensation which awakens the most 
 innocent and simple mind to feelings of shyness and restraint 
 towards the male sex in general — ^had failed to excite such an 
 alarm in her bosom. They were nearly related ; and Everard, 
 though young, was several years her elder, and had, from her 
 infancy, been an object of her respect as well as of her affection. 
 When this early and childish intimacy ripened into youthful love, 
 confessed and returned, still it differed in some shades from the 
 passion existing between lovers originally strangers to each other, 
 until their affections have been united in the ordinary course of 
 courtship. Their love was fonder, more familiar, more perfectly 
 confidential; purer too, perhaps, and more free from starts of 
 passionate violence, or apprehensive jealousy. 
 
 The possibility that any one could have attempted to rival 
 Everard in her affection, was a circumstance which never occurred 
 to Alice ; and that this singular Scottish lad, whom she laughed 
 with on account of his humour, and laughed at for his peculiarities, 
 should be an object of danger or of caution, never once entered her 
 imagination. The sort of intimacy to which she admitted Kerneguy 
 was the same to which she would have received a companion of 
 her own s.ex, whose manners she did not always approve, but whose 
 society she found always amusing. 
 
 It was natural that the freedom of Alice Lee's conduct, which 
 arose from the most perfect indifference, should pass for something 
 approaching to encouragement in the royal gallant's apprehension, 
 and that any resolutions he had formed against being tempted to 
 violate the hospitality of Woodstock, should begin to totter, as 
 opportunities for doing so became more frequent. 
 
 These opportunities were favoured by Albert's departure from 
 Woodstock the very day after his arrival. It had been agreed in 
 full council with Charles and Rochecliffe, that he should go to visit 
 his uncle Everard in the county of Kent, and, by showing himself 
 there, obviate any cause of suspicion which might arise from his 
 residence at Woodstock, and remove any pretext for disturbing his 
 father's family on account of their harbouring one who had been 
 so lately in arms. He had also undertaken, at his own great 
 personal risk, to visit different points on the sea-coast, and ascer- 
 tain the security of different places for providing shipping for the 
 King's leaving England. 
 
 These circumstances were alike calculated to procure the King's 
 safety, and facilitate his escape. But Alice was thereby deprived 
 
WOODSTOCK. 287 
 
 t 
 
 of the presence of her brother, who would have been her most 
 watchful guardian, but who had set down the King's light talk upon 
 a former "occasion to the gaiety of his humour, and would have 
 thought he had done his sovereign great injustice, had he seriously- 
 suspected him of such a breach of hospitality as a dishonourable 
 pursuit of Alice would have implied. 
 
 There were, however, two of the household at Woodstock, who 
 appeared not so entirely reconciled with Louis Kerneguy or his 
 purposes. The one was Bevis, who seemed, from their first un- 
 friendly rencontre, to have kept up a pique against their new guest, 
 which no advances on the part of Charles were able to soften. If 
 the page was by chance left alone with his young mistress, Bevis 
 chose always to be of the party ; came close by Alice's chair, 
 and growled audibly when the gallant drew near her. " It is a 
 pity," said the disguised Prince, " that your Bevis is not a bull-dog, 
 that we might dub him a roundhead at once — He is too handsome, 
 too noble, too aristocratic, to nourish those inhospitable pre- 
 judices against a poor houseless cavalier. I am convinced the 
 spirit of Pym or Hampden has transmigrated into the rogue, and 
 continues to demonstrate his hatred against royalty and all its 
 adherents." 
 
 Alice would then reply, that Bevis "was loyal in word and deed, 
 and only partook her father's prejudices against the Scots, which, 
 she could not but acknowledge, were tolerably strong. 
 
 " Nay, then," said the supposed Louis, " I must find some other 
 reason, for I cannot allow Sir Bevis's resentment to rest upon 
 national antipathy. So we will suppose that some gallant cavalier, 
 who wended to the wars and never returned, has adopted this 
 shape to look back npon the haunts he left so unwillingly, and is 
 jealous at seeing even poor Louis Kerneguy drawing near to the 
 lady of his lost affections." — He approached her chair as he spoke, 
 and Bevis gave one of his deep growls. 
 
 "In that case, you had best keep your distance," said Alice, 
 laughing, "for the bite of a dog, possessed by the ghost of a jealous 
 lover, cannot be very safe." And the King carried on the dialogue 
 in the same strain, which, while it led Alice to apprehend nothing 
 more serious than the apish gallantry of a fantastic boy, certainly 
 induced the supposed Louis Kerneguy to think that he had made 
 one of those conquests which often and easily fall to the share of 
 sovereigns. Notwithstanding the acuteness of his apprehension, 
 he was not sufficiently aware that the Royal Road to female favour 
 is only open to monarchs when they travel in grand costume, and 
 that when they woo incognito, their path of courtship is liable to 
 the same windings and obstacles which obstruct the course of 
 private individuals. 
 
283 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 There was, besides Bevis, another member of the family, who 
 kept a look-out upon Louis Kerneguy, and with no friendly eye. 
 Phoebe Mayflower, though her experience extended not beyond the 
 sphere of the village, yet knew the world much better than her 
 mistress, and besides she was five years older. More knowing, 
 she was more suspicious. She thought that odd-looking Scotch 
 boy made more up to her young mistress than was proper for his 
 condition of life ; and, moreover, that Alice gave him a little more 
 encouragement than Parthenia would have afforded to any such 
 Jack-a-dandy, in the absence of Argalus — for the volume treating 
 of the loves of these celebrated Arcadians was then the favourite 
 study of swains and damsels throughout merry England. Enter- 
 taining such suspicions, Phoebe was at a loss how to conduct 
 herself on the occasion, and yet resolved she would not see the 
 slightest chance of the course of Colonel Everard's true love being 
 obstructed, without attempting a remedy. She had a peculiar 
 favour for Markham herself ; and, moreover, he was, according to 
 her phrase, as handsome and personable a young man as was in 
 Oxfordshire ; and this Scottish scarecrow was no more to be 
 compared to him than chalk was to cheese. And yet she allowed 
 that Master Girnigy had a wonderfully well-oiled tongue, and that 
 such gallants were not to be despised. What was to be done ? — 
 she had no facts to offer, only vague suspicion ; and was afraid to 
 speak to her mistress, whose kindness, great as it was, did not, 
 nevertheless, encourage familiarity. 
 
 She sounded Joceline ; but he was, she knew not why, so deeply 
 interested about this unlucky lad, and held his importance so high, 
 that she could make no impression on him. To speak to the old 
 knight, would have been to raise a general tempest. The worthy 
 chaplain, who was, at Woodstock, grand referee on all disputed 
 matters, would have been the damsel's most natural resource, for 
 he was peaceful as well as moral' by profession, and politic by 
 practice. But it happened he had given Phoebe unintentional 
 offence by speaking of her under the classical epithet of Rustica 
 fidele, the which epithet, as she understood it not, she held herself 
 bound to resent as contumelious, and declaring she was not fonder 
 of ^fiddle than other folk, had ever since shunned all intercourse 
 with Doctor Rochecliffe which she could easily avoid. 
 
 Master Tomkins was always coming and going about the house 
 under various pretexts ; but he was a roundhead, and she was too 
 true to the cavaliers to introduce any of the enemy as parties to 
 their internal discords ;— besides, he had talked to Phoebe herself 
 in a manner which induced her to decline every thing in the shape 
 of familiarity with him. Lastly, Cavaliero Wildrake might have 
 been consulted ; but Phcebe had her own reasons for saying, as 
 
WOODSTOCK. 289 
 
 she did with some emphasis, that Cavaliero W.ildrake was an 
 impudent London rake. At length she resolved to communicate 
 her suspicions to the party having most interest in verifying or 
 confuting them. 
 
 " I'll let Master Markham Everard know, that there is a wasp 
 buzzing about his honeycomb," said Phoebe ; " and, moreover, that 
 I know that this young Scotch Scapegrace shifted himself out of a 
 woman's into a man's dress at Goody Green's, and gave Goody 
 Green's Dolly a gold-piece to say nothing about it ; — and no more 
 she did to any one but me, and she knows best herself whether she 
 gave change for the gold or not — but Master Louis is a saucy jack- 
 anapes, and like enough to ask it." 
 
 Three or four days elapsed while matters continued in this con- 
 dition — the disguised Prince sometimes thinking on the intrigue 
 which Fortune seemed to have thrown in his way for his amuse- 
 ment, and taking advantage of such opportunities as occurred to 
 increase his intimacy with Alice Lee ; but much oftener harassing 
 Doctor Rochecliffe with questions about the possibility of escape, 
 which the good man finding himself unable to answer, secured his 
 leisure against royal importunity, by retreating into the various 
 unexplored recesses of the Lodge, known perhaps only to himself, 
 who had been for nearly a score of years employed in writing the 
 Wonders of Woodstock. 
 
 It chanced on the fourth day, that some trifling circumstance 
 had called the knight abroad ; and he had left the young Scotsman, 
 now familiar in the family, along with Alice, in the parlour of 
 Victor Lee. Thus situated, he thought the time not unpropitious 
 for entering upon a strain of gallantry, of a kind which might be 
 called experimental, such as is practised by the Croats in skir- 
 mishing, when they keep bridle in hand, ready to attack the enemy, 
 or canter off without coming to close quarters, ? 3 circumstances 
 may recommend, After using for nearly ten minutes a sort of 
 metaphysical jargon, which might, according to Alice's pleasure, 
 have been interpreted either into gallantry, or the language of 
 serious pretension, and when he supposed her engaged in fathom- 
 ing his meaning, he had the mortification to find, by a single and 
 brief question, that he had been totally unattended to, and that 
 Alice was thinking on any thing at the moment rather than the 
 sense of what he had been saying. She asked him if he could tell 
 what it was o'clock, and this with an air of real curiosity con- 
 cerning the lapse of time, which put coquetry wholly out of the 
 question. 
 
 " I will go look at the sun-dial, Mistress Alice," said the gallant, 
 rising and colouring, through a sense of the contempt with which 
 he thought himself treated. 
 
 U 
 
290 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "You will do me a pleasure, Master Kerneguy," said Alice, 
 without the least consciousness of the indignation she had excited. 
 
 Master Louis Kerneguy left the room accordingly, not, however, 
 to procure the information required, but to vent his anger and 
 mortification, and to swear, with more serioiis purpose than he had 
 dared to do before, that Alice should rue her insolence. Good- 
 natured as he was, he was still a prince, unaccustomed to contra- 
 diction, far less to contempt, and his self-pride felt, for the moment, 
 wounded to the quick. With a hasty step he plunged into the 
 Chase, only remembering his own safety so far as to choose the 
 deeper and sequestered avenues, where, walking on with the speedy 
 and active step, which his recovery from fatigue now permitted him 
 to exercise according to his wont, he solaced his angry purposes, 
 by devising schemes of revenge on the insolent country coquette, 
 from which no consideration of hospitality was in future to have 
 weight enough to save her. 
 
 The irritated gallant passed 
 
 " The dial-stone, aged and green," 
 
 without deigning to ask it a single question ; nor could it have 
 satisfied his curiosity if he had, for no sun happened to shine at 
 the moment. He then hastened forward, muffling himself in his 
 cloak, and assuming a stooping and slouching gait, which dimin- 
 ished his apparent height. He was soon involved in the deep and 
 dim alleys of the wood, into which he had insensibly plunged 
 himself, and was traversing it at a great rate, without having any 
 distinct idea in what direction he was going, when suddenly his 
 course was arrested, first by a loud hollo, and then by a summons 
 to stand, accompanied by what seemed still more startling and 
 extraordinary, the touch of a cane upon his shoulder, imposed in a 
 good-humoured but somewhat imperious manner. 
 
 There were few symptoms of recognition which would have been 
 welcome at this moment ; but the appearance of the person who 
 had thus arrested his course, was least of all that he could have 
 anticipated as timely or agreeable. When he turned, on receiving 
 the signal, he beheld himself close to a young man, nearly six feet 
 in height, well made in joint and limb, but the gravity of whose 
 apparel, although handsome and gentlemanlike, and a sort of pre- 
 cision in his habit, from the cleanness and stiffness of his band to 
 the unsullied purity of his Spanish-leather shoes, bespoke a love of 
 order which was foreign to the impoverished and vanquished cava- 
 liers, and proper to the habits of those of the victorious party, who 
 could afford to dress themselves handsomely ; and whose rule- 
 that is, such as regarded the higher and more respectable classes— ■ 
 
WOODSTOCK. zgi 
 
 enjoined decency and sobriety of garb and deportment. There 
 was yet another weight against the Prince in the scale, arid one 
 still more characteristic of the inequality in the comparison, under 
 which he seemed to labour. There was strength in the muscular 
 form of the stranger who had brought him to this involuntary 
 parley, authority and determination in his brow, a long rapier on 
 the left, and a poniard or dagger on the right side of his belt, and 
 a pair of pistols stuck into it, which would have been sufficient to 
 give the unknown the advantage, (Louis Kerneguy having no 
 weapon but his sword,) even had his personal strength approached 
 nearer than it did to that of the person by whom he was thus 
 suddenly stopped. 
 
 Bitterly regretting the thoughtless' fit of passion that brought 
 him into his present situation, but especially the want of the pistols 
 he had left behind, and which do so much to place bodily strength 
 and weakness upon an equal footing, Charles yet availed himself 
 of the courage and presence of mind, in which few of his unfor- 
 tunate family had for centuries been deficient. He stood firm and 
 without motion, his cloak still wrapped round the lower part of his 
 face, to give time for explanation, in case he was mistaken for some 
 other person. 
 
 This coolness produced its effect ; for the other party said, with 
 doubt and surprise on his part, " Joceline Joliffe, is it not ? — If I 
 know not Joceline Joliffe, I should at least know my own cloak." 
 
 " I am not Joceline Joliffe, as you may see, sir," said Kerneguy, 
 calmly, drawing himself erect to show the difference of size, and 
 dropping the cloak from his face and person. 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied the stranger, in surprise ; " then. Sir Un- 
 known, I have to express my regret at having used my cane in 
 intimating that I wished you to stop. From that dress, which 
 I certainly recognise for my own, I concluded you must be Joce- 
 line, in whose custody I had left my habit at the Lodge." 
 
 " If it had been Joceline, sir," replied the supposed Kerneguy, 
 with perfect composure, " methinks you should not have struck so 
 hard." 
 
 The other party was obviously confused by the steady calmness 
 with which he was encountered. The sense of politeness dictated, 
 in the first place, an apology for a mistake, when he thought he 
 had been tolerably certain of the person. Master Kerneguy was 
 not in a situation to be punctilious ; he bowed gravely, as indicating 
 his acceptance of the excuse offered, then turned, and walked, as 
 he conceived, towards the Lodge ; though he had traversed the 
 woods which were cut with various alleys in different directions, 
 too hastily to be certain of the real course which he wished to 
 pursue. 
 
 U 2 
 
292 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 He was much embarrassed to find that this did not get him rid 
 of the companion whom he had thus involuntarily acquired. 
 Walked he slow, walked he fast, his friend in the genteel but 
 puritanic habit, strong in person, and well armed, as we have 
 described him, seemed determined to keep him company, and, 
 without attempting to join, or enter into conversation, never 
 suffered him to outstrip his surveillance for more than two or three 
 yards. The Wanderer mended his pace ; but although he was 
 then, in his youth, as afterwards in his riper age, one of the best 
 walkers in Britain, the stranger, without advancing his pace to 
 a run, kept fully equal to him, and his persecution became so close 
 and constant, and inevitable, that the pride and fear of Charles 
 were both alarmed, and he began to think that, whatever the 
 danger might be of a single-handed rencontre, he would neverthe- 
 less have a better bargain of this tall satellite if they settled the 
 debate betwixt them in the forest, than if they drew near any 
 place of habitation, where the man in authority was likely to find 
 friends and concurrence. 
 
 Betwixt anxiety, therefore, vexation, and anger, Charles faced 
 suddenly round on his pursuer, as they reached a small narrow 
 glade, which led to the little meadow over which presided the 
 King's Oak, the ragged and scathed branches and gigantic trunk 
 of which formed a vista to the little wild avenue. 
 
 " Sir," said he to his pursuer, " you have already been guilty of 
 one piece of impertinence towards me. You have apologized ; 
 and knowing no reason why you should distinguish me as an object 
 of incivility, I have accepted your excuse without scruple. Is there 
 any thing remains to be settled betwixt us, which causes you to 
 follow me in this manner ? If so, I shall be glad to make it a 
 subject of explanation or satisfaction, as the case may admit of. I 
 think you can owe me no malice ; for I never saw you before to 
 my knowledge. If you can give any good reason for asking it, I 
 am willing to render you personal satisfaction. If your purpose is 
 merely impertinent curiosity, I let you know that I will not suffer 
 myself to be dogged in my private walks by any one." 
 
 " When I recognise my own cloak on another man's shoulders," 
 replied the stranger, dryly, "methinks I have a natural right to 
 follow, and see what becomes of it ; for know, sir, though I have 
 been mistaken as to the wearer, yet I am confident I had as good 
 a right to stretch my cane across the cloak you are mufiied in, as 
 ever had any one to brush his own garments. If, therefore, we are 
 to be friends, I must ask, for instance, how you came by that cloak, 
 and where you are going with it ? I shall otherwise make bold to 
 stop you, as one who has sufficient commission to do so." 
 
 Oh, unhappy cloak, thought tlie Wanderer, ay, and thrice un- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 293 
 
 happy the idle fancy that sent me here with it wrapped around 
 my nose, to pick quarrels and attract observation, when quiet and 
 secrecy were peculiarly essential to my safety ! 
 
 " If you will allow me to guess, sir," continued the stranger, who 
 was no other than Markham Everard, " I will convince you, that 
 you are better known than you think for." 
 
 Now, Heaven forbid ! prayed the party addressed, in silence, 
 but with as much devotion as ever he applied to a prayer in his 
 life. Yet even in this moment of extreme urgency, his courage and 
 composure did not fail ; and he recollected it was of the utmost 
 importance not to seem startled, and to answer so as, if possible, 
 to lead the dangerous companion with whom he had met, to con- 
 fess the extent of his actual knowledge or suspicions concerning 
 him. 
 
 " If you know me, sir," he said, " and are a gentleman, as your 
 appearance promises, you cannot be at a loss to discover to what 
 accident you must attribute my wearing these clothes, which you 
 say are yours." 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied Colonel Everard, his wrath in no sort turned 
 away by the mildness of the stranger's answer, " we have learned 
 our Ovid's Metamorphoses, and we know for what purposes young 
 men of quality travel in disguise — we know that even female attire 
 is resorted to on certain occasions — We have heard of Vertumnus 
 and Pomona." 
 
 The Monarch, as he weighed these words, again uttered a devout 
 prayer, that this ill-looking affair might have no deeper root than 
 the jealousy of some admirer of Alice Lee, promising to himself, 
 that, devotee as he was to the fair sex, he would make no scruple 
 of renouncing the fairest of Eve's daughters in order to get out of 
 the present dilemma. 
 
 " Sir," he said, " you seem to be a gentleman. I have no objec- 
 tion to tell you as such, that I also am of that class." 
 
 " Or somewhat higher, perhaps ? " said Everard. 
 
 " A gentleman," replied Charles, " is a term which comprehends 
 all ranks entitled to armorial bearings — A duke, a lord, a prince, 
 is no more than a gentleman ; and if in misfortune, as I am, he 
 may be glad if that general term of courtesy is allowed him." 
 
 " Sir," replied Everard, " I have no purpose to entrap you to any 
 acknowledgment fatal to your own safety. Nor do I hold it my 
 business to be active in the arrest of private individuals, whose per- 
 verted sense of national duty may have led them into errors, rather 
 to be pitied than punished by caridid men. But if those who have 
 brought civil war and disturbance into their native country, proceed 
 to carry dishonour and disgrace into the bosom of families — if they 
 attempt to carry on their private debaucheries to the injury of the 
 
294 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 hospitable roofs which afford them refuge from the consequences 
 of their public crimes, do you think, my lord, that we shall bear it 
 with patience ? " 
 
 " If it is your purpose to quarrel with me," said the Prince, 
 " speak it out at once like a gentleman. You have the advantage, 
 no doubt, of arms, but it is not that odds which will induce me to 
 fly from a single man. If, on the other hand, you are disposed to 
 hear reason, I tell you in calm words, that I neither suspect the 
 offence to which you allude, nor comprehend why you give me the 
 title of my Lord." 
 
 " You deny, then, being the Lord Wilmot ? " said Everard. 
 
 " I may do so most safely," said the Prince. 
 
 " Perhaps you rather style yourself Earl of Rochester ? We 
 heard that the issuing of some such patent by the King of Scots 
 was a step which your ambition proposed." 
 
 " Neither lord now earl am I, as sure as I have a Christian soul 
 to be saved. My name is" 
 
 " Do not degrade yourself by unnecessary falsehood, my lord ; 
 and that to a single man, who, I promise you, will not invoke 
 public justice to assist his own good sword should he see cause to 
 use it. Can you look at that ring, and deny that you are Lord 
 Wilmot?" 
 
 He handed to the disguised Prince a ring which he took from 
 his purse, and his opponent instantly knew it for the same he had 
 dropped into Alice's pitcher at the fountain, obeying only, though 
 imprudently, the gallantry of the moment, in giving a pretty gem 
 to a handsome girl, whom he had accidentally frightened. 
 
 " I know the ring," he said ; " it has been in my possession. 
 How it should prove me to be Lord Wilmot, I cannot conceive ; 
 and beg to say, it bears false witness against me." 
 
 " You shall see the evidence," answered Everard ; and resuming 
 the ring, he pressed a spring ingeniously contrived in the collet of 
 the setting, on which the stone flew Jaack, and showed within it the 
 cipher of Lord Wilmot beautifully engraved -in miniature, with a 
 coronet. — " What say you now, sir ? " 
 
 " That probabilities are no proofs," said the Prince ; " there is 
 nothing here save what can be easily accounted for. I am the son 
 of a Scottish nobleman, who was mortally wounded and made 
 prisoner at Worcester fight. When he took leave, and bid me fly, 
 he gave me the few valuables he possessed, and that among others. 
 I have heard him talk of having changed rings with Lord Wilmot, 
 on some occasion in Scotland, but I never knew the trick of the 
 gem which you have shown me." 
 
 In this it may be necessary to say, Charles spoke very truly ; 
 nor would he haVQ parted with it in the way he did, had he sus- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 255 
 
 pected it would be easily recognised. He proceeded after a 
 minute's pause : — " Once more, sir, — I have told you much that 
 concerns my safety — if you are generous, you will let me pass, and 
 I may do you on some future day as good service. If you mean to 
 arrest me, you must do so here, and at your own peril, for I will 
 neither walk farther your way, nor permit you to dog me on mine. 
 If you let me pass, I will thank you — if not, take to your weapon." 
 
 " Young gentleman," said Colonel Everard, " whether you be 
 actually the gay young nobleman for whom I took you, you have 
 made me uncertain ; but, intimate as you say your family has been 
 with him, I have little doubt that you are proficient in the school 
 of debauchery, of which Wilmot and Villiers are professors, and 
 their hopeful Master a graduated student. Your conduct at Wood- 
 stock, where you have rewarded the hospitality of the family by 
 meditating the most deadly wound to their honour, has proved you 
 too apt a scholar in such an academy. I intended only to warn 
 you on this subject— it will be your own fault if I add chastisement 
 to admonition." 
 
 " Warn me, sir ! " said the Prince, indignantly, " and chastise- 
 ment ! This is presuming more on my patience than is consistent 
 with your own safety — Draw, sir." — So saying, he laid his hand on 
 his sword. 
 
 " My religion," said Everard, " forbids me to be rash in shedding 
 blood — Go home, sir — ^be wise — consult the dictates of honour as 
 well as prudence. Respect the honour of the House of Lee, and 
 know there is one nearly allied to it, by whom your motions will be 
 called to severe account." 
 
 " Aha ! " said the Prince, with a bitter laugh, " I see the whole 
 matter now — we have our round-headed Colonel, our puritan 
 cousin, before us — the man of texts and morals, whom Alice Lee 
 laughs at so heartily. If your religion, sir, prevents you from 
 giving satisfaction, it should prevent you from offering insult to a 
 person of honour." 
 
 The passions of both were now fully up — they drew mutually, 
 and began to fight, the Colonel relinquishing the advantage he 
 could have obtained by the use of his fire-arms. A thrust of tiie 
 arm, or a slip of the foot, might, at the moment, have changed the 
 destinies of Britain, when the arrival of a third party broke off the 
 combat. 
 
296 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Stay — for the King has thrown his warder down. 
 
 Richard 11. 
 
 The combatants whom we left engaged at the end of the last 
 chapter, made mutual passes at each other with apparently equal 
 skill and courage. Charles had been too often in action, and too 
 long a party as well as a victim to civil war, to find any thing new 
 or surprising in being obliged to defend himself with his own hands ; 
 and Everard had been distinguished, as well for his personal 
 bravery, as for the other properties of a commander. But the 
 arrival of a third party prevented the tragic conclusion of a com- 
 bat, in which the success of either party must have given him much 
 cause for regretting his victory. 
 
 It was the old knight himself, who arrived, mounted upon a forest 
 pony, for the war and sequestration had left him no steed of a more 
 dignified description. He thrust himself between the combatants, 
 and commanded them on their lives to hold. So soon as a glance 
 from one to the other had ascertained to him whom he had to deal 
 with, he demanded, " Whether the devils of Woodstock whom folk 
 talked about had got possession of them both, that they were tilt- 
 ing at each other within the verge of the royal liberties ? — Let me 
 tell both of you," he said, " that while old Henry Lee is at Wood- 
 stock, the immunities of the Park shall be maintained as much as 
 if the King were still on the throne. None shall fight duellos here, 
 excepting the stags in their season. Put up, both of you, or I 
 shall lug out as thirdsman, and prove perhaps the worst devil of 
 the three ! — As Will says — 
 
 ' I'll so maul you and your toasting-irons. 
 That you shall think the devil has come from hell.'" 
 
 The combatants desisted from their encounter, but stood looking 
 at each other sullenly, as men do in such a situation, each unwilling 
 to seem to desire peace more than the other, and averse therefore 
 to be the first to sheathe his sword. 
 
 "Return your weapons, gentlemen, upon the spot," said the 
 knight yet more peremptorily, " one and both of you, or you will 
 have something to do with me, I promise you. You maybe thank- 
 ful times are changed. I have known them such, that your inso- 
 lence might have cost each of you your right hand, if not redeemed 
 with a round sum of money. — Nephew, if you do not mean to 
 
WOODSTOCK. 297 
 
 alienate me for ever, I command you to put up. — Master Kerneguy, 
 you are my guest. I request of you not to do me the insult of 
 remaining with your sword drawn, where it is my duty to see peace 
 observed." 
 
 " I obey you, Sir Henry," said the King, sheathing his rapier — 
 " I hardly indeed know wherefore I was assaulted by this gentle- 
 man. I assure you, none respects the King's person or privileges 
 more than myself — though the devotion is somewhat out of 
 fashion." 
 
 " We may find a place to meet, sir," replied Everard, " where 
 neither the royal person nor privileges can be offended." 
 
 " Faith, very hardly, sir," said Charles, unable to suppress the 
 rising jest — " I mean, the King has so few followers, that the loss 
 of the least of them might be some small damage to him ; but, 
 risking all that, I will meet you wherever there is fair field for a 
 poor cavalier to get off in safety, if he has the luck in fight." 
 
 Sir Henry Lee's first idea had been fixed upon the insult offered 
 to the royal demesne ; he now began to turn his thoughts towards 
 the safety of his kinsman, and of the young royalist, as he deemed 
 him. " Gentlemen," he said, " I must insist on this business being 
 put to a final end. Nephew Markham, is this your return for 
 my condescension in coming back to Woodstock on your warrant, 
 that you should take an opportunity to cut the throat of my 
 guest ? " 
 
 " If you knew his purpose as well as, I do," — said Markham, 
 and then paused, conscious that he might only incense his uncle 
 without convincing him, as any thing he might say of Kerneguy's 
 addresses to Alice was likely to be imputed to his own jealous sus- 
 picions — he looked on the ground, therefore, and was silent. 
 
 "And you, Master Kerneguy," said Sir Henry, "can you give 
 me any reason why you seek to take the life of this young man, in 
 whom, though unhappily forgetful of his loyalty and duty, I must 
 yet take some interest, as my nephew by affinity ? " 
 
 " I was not aware the gentleman enjoyed that honour, which 
 certainly would have protected him from my sword," answered 
 Kerneguy. " But the quarrel is his ; nor can I tell any reason why 
 he fixed it upon me, unless it were the difference of our political 
 opinions." 
 
 " You know the contrary," said Everard ; " you know that I told 
 you you were safe from me as a fugitive royalist — and your last 
 words showed you were at no loss to guess my connexion with Sir 
 Henry. That, indeed, is of little consequence. I should debase 
 myself did I use the relationship as a means of protection from 
 you, or any one." 
 
 As they thus disputed, neither choosing to approach the real 
 
agS WOODSTOCK. 
 
 cause of quarrel, Sir Henry looked from the one to the other, with 
 a peace-maiking countenance, exclaiming — 
 
 " ' Why, what an intricate impeach is this ? 
 
 I think you both have drunk of Circe's cup.' 
 
 Come, my young masters, allow an old man to mediate between 
 you. I am not shortsighted in such matters — The mother of mis- 
 chief is no bigger than a gnat's wing ; and I have known fifty 
 instances in my own day, when, as Will says — 
 
 ' Gallants have been confronted hardily, 
 In single opposition, hand to hand,' 
 
 in which, after the field was fought, no one could remember the 
 cause of quarrel. — Tush ! a small thing will do it — the taking of 
 the wall— or the gentle rub of the shoulder in passing each other, 
 or a hasty word, or a misconceived gesture — Come, forget your 
 cause of quarrel, be what it will — you have had your breathing, 
 and though you put up your rapiers unbloodied, that was no de- 
 fault of yours, but by command of your elder, and one who had 
 right to use authority. In Malta, where the duello is punctiliously 
 well understood, the persons engaged in a single combat are bound 
 to halt on the command of a knight, or priest, or lady, and the 
 quarrel so interrupted is held as honourably terminated, and may 
 not be revived. — Nephew, it is, I think, impossible that you can 
 nourish spleen against this young gentleman for having fought for 
 his king. Hear my honest proposal, Markham — ^You know I bear 
 no malice, though I have some reason to be offended with you — 
 Give the young man your hand in friendship, and we will back to 
 the Lodge, all three together, and drink a cup of sack in token of 
 reconciliation." 
 
 Markham Everard found himself unable to resist this approach 
 towards kindness on his uncle's part. He suspected, indeed, what 
 was partly the truth, that it was not entirely from reviving good- 
 will, but also, that his uncle thought, by such attention, to secure 
 his neutraUty at least, if not his assistance, for the safety of the 
 fugitive royalist. He was sensible that he was placed in an awk- 
 ward predicament ; and that he might incur the suspicions of his 
 own party, for holding intercourse even witJi a near relation, who 
 harboured such guests. But, on the other hand, he thought his 
 services to the Commonwealth had been of sufificient importance to 
 outweigh whatever envy might urge on that topic. Indeed, although 
 the Civil War had divided families much, and in many various 
 ways, yet when it seemed ended by the triumph of the republicans, 
 the rage of pohtical hatred began to relent, and the ancient ties of 
 
WOUDSTOOK. 299 
 
 kindred and friendship regained at least a part of their former in- 
 fluence. Many reunions were formed ; and those who, like Everard, 
 adhered to the conquering party, often exerted themselves for the 
 protection of their deserted relatives. 
 
 As these things rushed through his mind, accompanied with the 
 prospect of a renewed intercourse with Alice Lee, by means of 
 which he might be at hand to protect her against every chance, 
 either of injury or insult, he held out his hand to the supposed 
 Scottish page, saying at the same time, " That, for his part, he was 
 very ready to forget the cause of quarrel, or rather, to consider it 
 as arising out of a misapprehension, and to offer Master Kerneguy 
 such friendship as might exist between honourable men, who had 
 embraced different sides in politics." 
 
 Unable to overcome the feeling of personal dignity, which pru- 
 dence recommended to him to forget, Louis Kerneguy in return 
 bowed low, but without accepting Everard's proffered hand. 
 
 " He had no occasion," he said, " to make any exertions to forget 
 the cause of quarrel, for he had never been able to comprehend it ; 
 but as he had not shunned the gentleman's resentment, so he was 
 now willing to embrace and return any degree of his favour, with 
 which he might be pleased to honour him." 
 
 Everard withdrew his hand with a smile, and bowed in return to 
 the salutation of the page, whose stiff reception of his advances he 
 imputed to the proud pettish disposition of a Scotch boy, trained 
 up in extravagant ideas of family consequence and personal im- 
 portance, which his acquaintance with the world had not yet been 
 sufficient to dispel. 
 
 Sir Henry Lee, delighted with the termination of the quarrel, 
 which he supposed to be in deep deference to his own authority, 
 and not displeased with the opportunity of renewing some acquaint- 
 ance with his nephew, who had, notwithstanding his political 
 demerits, a warmer interest in his affections than he was, perhaps, 
 himself aware of, said, in a tone of consolation, " Never be morti- 
 fied, young gentlemen. I protest it went to my heart to part you, 
 when I saw you stretching yourselves so handsomely, and in fair 
 love of honour, without any malicious or bloodthirsty thoughts. I 
 promise you, had it not been for my duty as Ranger here, and 
 sworn to the office, I would rather have been your umpire than 
 your hinderance. — But a finished quarrel is a forgotten quarrel ; 
 and your tilting should have no further consequence excepting the 
 appetite it may have given you." 
 
 So saying, he urged forward his pony, and moved in triumph 
 towards the Lodge by the nearest alley. His feet almost touching 
 the ground, the ball of his toe just resting in the stirrup, — the fore- 
 part of the thigh brought round to the saddle, — the heels turned 
 
300 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 outwards, and sunk as much as possible, — his body precisely erect, 
 —the reins properly and systematically divided in his left hand, his 
 right holding a riding-rod diagonally pointed towards the horse's 
 left ear, — he seemed a champion of the menage, fit to have reined 
 Bucephalus himself. His youthful companions, who attended on 
 either hand like equerries, could scarce suppress a smile at the 
 completely adjusted and systematic posture qf the rider, contrasted 
 with the wild and diminutive appearance of the pony, with its 
 shaggy coat, and long tail and mane, and its keen eyes sparkling 
 like red coals from amongst the mass of hair which fell over its 
 small countenance. If the reader has the Duke of Newcastle's 
 book on horsemanship, {splendida moles /) he may have some idea 
 of the figure of the good knight, if he can conceive such a figure as 
 one of the cavaliers there represented, seated, in all the graces of 
 his art, on a Welsh or Exmoor pony, in its native savage state, 
 without grooming pr discipline of any kind ; the ridicule being 
 greatly enhanced by the disproportion of size betwixt the animal 
 and its rider. 
 
 Perhaps the knight saw their wonder, for the first words he said 
 after they left the ground were, " Pixie, though small, is mettle- 
 some, gentlemen," (here he contrived that Pixie should himself 
 corroborate the assertion, by executing a gambade,)—" he is diminu- 
 tive, but full of spirit ; — indeed, save that I am somewhat too large 
 for an elfin horseman," (the knight was upwards of six feet high,) 
 " I should remind myself, when I mount him, of the Fairy King, 
 as described by Mike Drayton :— 
 
 ' Himself he on an earwig set. 
 Yet scarce upon his back could get, 
 So oft and high he did curvet, 
 
 Ere he himself did settle. 
 He made him stop, and turn, and bound. 
 To gallop, and to trot the round, 
 He scarce could stand on any ground. 
 
 He was so full of mettle.' " ■ 
 
 " My old friend. Pixie ! " said Everard, stroking the pony's neck, 
 '•■ I am glad that he has survived all these bustling days— Pixie 
 must be above twenty years old. Sir Henry ? " 
 
 " Above twenty years, certainly. Yes, nephew Markham, war is 
 a whirlwind in a plantation, which only spares what is least worth 
 leaving. Old Pixie and his old master have survived many a tall 
 fellow, and many a great horse— neither of them good for much 
 themselves. Yet, as Will says, an old man can do somewhat. So 
 Pixie and I still survive." 
 
 So saying, he again contrived that Pixie should show some 
 remnants of activity. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 301 
 
 " Still survive ? " said the young Scot, completing the sentence 
 which the good knight had left unfinished—" ay, still survive, 
 
 ' To witch the world with noble horsemanship.'" 
 
 Everard coloured, for he felt the irony ; but not so his uncle, 
 whose simple vanity never permitted him to doubt the sincerity of 
 the compliment, 
 
 "Are you advised of that.-"' he said. "In King James's time, 
 indeed, I have appeared in the tiltyard, and there you might have 
 said — 
 
 ' You saw young Harry with his beaver up.' 
 
 As to seeing old Harry, why" Here the knight paused, and 
 
 looked as a bashful man in labour of a pun — " As to old Harry — 
 why, you might as well see the devil. You take me. Master Kerne- 
 guy — the devil, you know, is my namesake — ha — ha — ha ! — Cousin 
 Everard, I hope your precision is not startled by an innocent 
 jest?" 
 
 He was so delighted with the applause of both his companions, 
 that he recited the whole of the celebrated passage referred to, and 
 concluded with defying the present age, bundle all its wits, Donne, 
 Cowley, Waller, and the rest of them together, to produce a poet of 
 a tenth part of the genius of old Will. 
 
 " Why, we are said to have one of his descendants among us — 
 Sir William D'Avenant," said Louis Kerneguy ; " and many think 
 him as clever a fellow." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Sir Henry — Will D'Avenant, whom I knew 
 in the North, an officer under Newcastle, when the Marquis lay 
 before Hull? — why, he was an honest cavalier, and wrote good 
 doggerel enough ; but how came he akin to Will Shakspeare, I 
 trow ? " 
 
 "Why," replied the young Scot, " by the surer side of the house, 
 and after the old fashion, if D'Avenant speaks truth. It seems that 
 his mother was a good-looking, laughing, buxom mistress of an inn 
 between Stratford and London, at which Will Shakspeare often 
 quartered as he went down to his native town ; and that out of 
 friendship and gossipred, as we say in Scotland, Will Shakspeare 
 became godfather to Will D'Avenant ; and not contented with this 
 spiritual affinity, the younger Will is for establishing some claim to 
 a natural one, alleging that his mother was a great admirer of 
 wit, and there were no bounds to her complaisance for men of 
 genius." * 
 
 " Out upon the hound ! " said Colonel Everard ; " would he 
 purchase the reputation of descending from poet, or from prince, at 
 
302 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the expense of his mother's good fame ?— his nose ought to be 
 slit." 
 
 "That would be difficult," answered the disguised Prince, re- 
 collecting the peculiarity of the bard's countenance.* 
 
 " Will D'Avenant the son of Will Shakspeare ! " said the knight, 
 who had not yet recovered his surprise at the enormity of the pre- 
 tension ; " why, it reminds me of a verse in the puppetshow of 
 Phaeton, where the hero complains to his mother — 
 
 'Besides, by all the village boys Pm sham'd 
 You the Sun's son, you rascal, you be d — d ! ' * 
 
 I never heard such unblushing assurance in my life ! — Will 
 D'Avenant the son of the brightest and best poet that ever was, is, 
 or will be ! — But I crave your pardon, nephew — You, I believe, love 
 no stageplays." 
 
 " Nay, I am not altogether so precise as you would make me, 
 uncle. I have loved them perhaps too well in my time, and now I 
 condemn them not altogether, or in gross, though I approve not 
 their excesses and extravagances. — I cannot, even in Shakspeare, 
 but see many things both scandalous to decency and prejudicial to 
 good manners — many things which tend to ridicule virtue, or to 
 recommend vice, — at least to mitigate the hideousness of its 
 features. I cannot think these fine poems are an useful study, and 
 especially for the youth of either sex, in which bloodshed is pointed 
 out as the chief occupation of the men, and intrigue as the sole 
 employment of the women. 
 
 In making these observations, Everard was simple enough to 
 think that he was only giving his uncle an opportunity of defend- 
 ing a favourite opinion, without offending him by a contradiction, 
 which was so limited and mitigated. But here, as on other 
 occasions, he forgot how obstinate his uncle was in his views, 
 whether of religion, policy, or taste, and that it would be as easy 
 to convert him to the Presbyterian form of government, or engage 
 him to take the abjuration oath, as to shake his belief in Shaks- 
 peare. There was another peculiarity in the good knight's mode of 
 arguing, which Everard, being himself of a plain and downright 
 character, and one whose rehgious tenets were in some degree un- 
 favourable to the suppressions and simulations often used in 
 society, could never perfectly understand. Sir Henry, sensible of 
 his natural heat of temper, was wont scrupulously to guard against 
 it, and would for some time, when in fact much offended, conduct 
 a debate with all the external appearance of composure, till the 
 violence of his feelings would rise so high as to overcome and bear 
 away the artificial barriers opposed to it, and rush down upon the 
 adversary with accumulating wrath. It thus frequently happened, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 303 
 
 that, like a wily old general, he retreated in the face of his dis- 
 putant in good order and by degrees, with so moderate a degree of 
 resistance, as to draw on his antagonist's pursuit to the spot, where, 
 at length, making a sudden and unexpected attack, with horse, 
 foot, and artillery at once, he seldom failed to confound the enemy, 
 though he might not overthrow him. 
 
 It was on this principle, therefore, that, hearing Everard's last 
 observation, he disguised his angry feelings, and answered, with a 
 tone where politeness was called in to keep guard upon passion, 
 " That undoubtedly the Presbyterian gentry had given, through 
 the whole of these unhappy times, such proofs of an humble, 
 unaspiring, and unambitious desire of the public good, as entitled 
 them to general credit for the sincerity of those very strong 
 scruples which they entertained against works, in which the 
 noblest sentiments of religion and virtue, — sentiments which 
 might convert hardened sinners, and be placed with propriety in 
 the mouths of dying saints and martyrs, — happened, from the 
 rudeness and course taste of the times, to be mixed with some 
 broad jests, and similar matter, which lay not much in the way, 
 excepting of those who painfully sought such stuff out, that they 
 might use it in vilifying what was in itself deserving of the highest 
 applause. But what he wished especially to know from his 
 nephew was, whether any of those gifted men, who had expelled 
 the learned scholars and deep divines of the Church of England 
 from the pulpit, and now flourished in their stead, received any 
 inspiration from the muses, (if he might use so profane a term 
 without offence to Colonel Everard,) or whether they were not as 
 sottishly and brutally averse from elegant letters, as they were from 
 humanity and common sense ? " 
 
 Colonel Everard might have guessed, by the ironical tone in 
 which this speech was delivered, what storm was mustering within 
 his uncle's bosom— nay, he might have conjectured the state of the 
 old knight's feelings from his emphasis on the word Colonel, by 
 which epithet, as that which most connected his nephew with the 
 party he hated, he never distinguished Everard, unless when his 
 wrath was rising ; while, on the contrary, when disposed to be on 
 good terms with him, he usually called him Kinsman, or Nephew 
 Markham. Indeed, it was under a partial sense that this was the 
 case, and in the hope to see his"^ cousin Alice, that the Colonel 
 forbore making any answer to the harangue of his uncle, which 
 had concluded just as the old knight had alighted at the door of 
 the Lodge, and was entering the hall, followed by his two 
 attendants. 
 
 Phoebe at the same time made her appearance in the hall, and 
 received orders to bring some "beverage" for the gentlemen. 
 
304 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 The Hebe of Woodstock failed not to recognise and welcome 
 Everard by an almost imperceptible curtsy ; but she did not serve 
 her interest, as she designed, when she asked the knight, as a 
 question of course, whether he commanded the attendance of 
 Mistress Alice. A stern No, was the decided reply; and the ill- 
 timed interference seemed to increase his previous irritation against 
 Everard for his depreciation of Shakspeare. " I would insist," — said 
 Sir Henry, resuming the obnoxious subject, " were it fit for a poor 
 disbanded cavalier to use such a phrase towards a commander 
 of the conquering army, — upon knowing whether the convulsion 
 which has sent us saints and prophets without end, has not also 
 afforded us a poet with enough both of gifts and grace to outshine 
 poor old Will, the oracle and idol of us blinded and carnal 
 cavaliers ? " 
 
 " Surely, sir," replied Colonel Everard, " I know verses written 
 by a friend of the Commonwealth, and those, too, of a dramatic 
 character, which, weighed in an impartial scale, might equal even 
 the poetry of Shakspeare, and which are free from the fustian and 
 indelicacy with which that great bard was sometimes content to 
 feed the coarse appetites of his barbarous audience." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the knight, keeping down his wrath with 
 difficulty. " I should like to be acquainted with this masterpiece 
 of poetry ! — May we ask the name of this distinguished person ? " 
 
 " It must be Vicars, or Withers, at least," said the feigned 
 page. 
 
 " No, sir," replied Everard, "nor Drummond of Hawthornden, 
 nor Lord Stirling neither. And yet the verses will vindicate what 
 I say, if you will make allowance for indifferent recitation, for I am 
 better accustomed to speak to a battalion than to those who love 
 the muses. The speaker is a lady benighted, who, having lost her 
 way in a pathless forest, at first expresses herself agitated by the 
 supernatural fears to which her situation gave rise." 
 
 " A play, too, and written by a roundhead author ! " said Sir 
 Henry in surprise. 
 
 " A dramatic production at least," replied his nephew ; and began 
 to recite simply, but with feeling, the lines now so well known, but 
 which had then obtainedno celebrity, the fame of the author rest- 
 ing upon the basis rather of his polemical and political publications, 
 than on the poetry doomed in after days to support the eternal 
 structure of his immortality. 
 
 " ' These thoughts may startle, but will not astound 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 By a strong-siding champion. Conscience.' " 
 
 " My own opinion, nephew Markham, my own opinion,'' said Sir 
 
WOODSTOCK. 30S 
 
 Henry, with a burst of admiration; "better expressed, but just 
 what I said when the scoundrelly roundheads pretended to see 
 ghosts at Woodstock — Go on, I prithee." 
 Everard proceeded : — 
 C 
 " ' O welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, 
 
 Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings. 
 
 And thou unblemish'd form of Chastity ! 
 
 I see ye visibly, and now believe 
 
 That he the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 
 
 Are but as slavish officers of vengeance, 
 
 Would send a glistering guardian, if need were. 
 
 To keep my life and honour unassail'd. — 
 
 Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud. 
 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night .-' ' 
 
 " The rest has escaped me," said the reciter ; " and I marvel I 
 have been able to remember so much." 
 
 Sir Henry Lee, who had expected some effusion very different 
 from those classical and beautiful lines, soon changed the scornful 
 expression of his countenance, relaxed his contorted upper lip, and, 
 stroking down his beard with his left hand, rested the forefinger of 
 the right upon his eyebrow, in sign of profound attention. After 
 Everard had ceased speaking, the old man sighed as at the end of 
 a strain of sweet music. He then spoke in a gentler manner than 
 formerly. 
 
 " Cousin Markham," he said, " these verses flow sweetly, and 
 sound in my ears like the well-touched warbling of a lute. But 
 thou knowest I am something slow of apprehending the full mean- 
 ing of that which I hear for the first time. Repeat me these 
 verses again, slowly and deliberately ; for I always love to hear 
 poetry twice, the first time for sound, and the latter time for 
 sense." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Everard recited again the lines, with more 
 hardihood and better effect ; the knight distinctly understanding, 
 and, from his looks and motions, highly applauding them. 
 
 " Yes ! " he broke out, when Everard was .again silent — " Yes — I 
 do call that poetry — though it were even written by a Presbyterian, 
 or an Anabaptist, either. Ay, there were good and righteous 
 people to be found even amongst the offending towns which were 
 destroyed by fire. And certainly I have heard, though with little 
 credence, (begging your pardon, cousin Everard,) that there are 
 men among you who have seen the error of their ways in rebelling 
 against the best and kindest of masters, and bringing it to that 
 pass that he was murdered by a gang yet fiercer than themselves. 
 Ay, doubtless the gentleness of spirit, and the purity of mind, 
 which dictated those beautiful lines, has long ago taught a man 
 
 ' X 
 
3o6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 so amiable to say, I have sinned, I have sinned. Yes, I doubt not 
 so sweet a harp has been broken, even in remorse, for the crimes 
 he was witness to ; and now he sits drooping for the shame and 
 sorrow of England, — all his noble rhymes, as Will says, 
 
 ' Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and harsh.' 
 
 Dost thou not think so. Master Kerneguy ? " 
 
 " Not I, Sir Henry," answered the page somewhat maliciously. 
 
 " What, dost not believe the author of these lines must needs be 
 of the better file, and leaning to our persuasion ? " 
 
 " I think. Sir Henry, that the poetry qualifies the author to write 
 a play on the subject of Dame Potiphar and her recusant lover ; 
 and as for his calling— that last metaphor of the cloud in a black 
 coat or cloak, with silver lining, would have dubbed him a tailor 
 with me, only that I happen to know that he is a schoolmaster by- 
 profession, and by political opinions qualified to be Poet Laureate 
 to Cromwell ; for what Colonel Everard has repeated with such 
 unction, is the production of no less celebrated a person than John 
 Milton." 
 
 "John Milton !" exclaimed Sir Henry in astonishment — " What! 
 John Milton, the blasphemous and bloody-minded author of the 
 Defensio Populi Anglicani / — the advocate of the infernal High 
 Court of Fiends ! — the creature and parasite of that grand im- 
 postor, that loathsome hypocrite, that detestable monster, that 
 prodigy of the universe, that disgrace of mankind, that landscape 
 of iniquity, that sink of sin, and that compendium of baseness, 
 Oliver Cromwell ! " 
 
 " Even the same John Milton," answered Charles ; " school- 
 master to little boys, and tailor to the clouds, which he furnishes 
 with suits of black, lined with silver, at no other expense than that 
 of common sense." 
 
 " Markham Everard," said the old knight, " I will never forgive 
 thee — never, never. Thou hast made me speak words of praise 
 respecting one whose offal should fatten the region-kites.— Speak 
 not to me, sir, but begone ! Am I, your kinsman and benefactor, 
 a fit person to be juggled out of my commendation and eulogy, 
 and brought to bedaub such a whitened sepulchre as the sophist 
 Milton ? " 
 
 " I profess," said Everard, " This is hard measure. Sir Henry. 
 You pressed me — you defied me, to produce poetry as good as 
 Shakspeare's. I only thought of the verses, not of the politics of 
 Milton." 
 
 " Oh yes, sir," replied Sir Henry, "we well know your power oi 
 making distinctions ; you could make war against the King's 
 prerogative, without having the least design against his nerson. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 307 
 
 Oh Heaven forbid ! But Heaven will hear and judge you.— Set 
 down the beverage, Phoebe " — (this was added by way of paren- 
 thesis to Phoebe, who entered with refreshment) — " Colonel 
 Everard is not thirsty. — You have wiped your mouths, and said 
 you have done no evil. But though you have deceived man, yet 
 God you cannot deceive. And you shall wipe no lips in Wood- 
 stock, either after meat or drink, I promise you." 
 
 Charged thus at once with the faults imputed to his whole 
 religious sect and political party, Everard felt too late of what 
 imprudence he had been guilty in giving the opening, by disputing 
 his uncle's taste in dramatic poetry. He endeavoured to explain — 
 to apologize. 
 
 " I mistook your purpose, honoured sir, and thought you really 
 desired to know something of our literature ; and in repeating what 
 you deemed not unworthy your hearing, I profess I thought I was 
 doing you pleasure, instead of stirring your indignation." 
 
 " O ay ! " returned the knight, with unmitigated rigour of resent- 
 ment — " profess — profess — Ay, that is the new phrase of assevera- 
 tion, instead of the profane adjuration of courtiers and cavaliers — 
 Oh, sir, profess less and practise more — and so good-day to you. — 
 Master Kerneguy, you will find beverage in my apartment." 
 
 While Phoebe stood gaping in admiration at the sudden quarrel 
 which had arisen, Colonel Everard's vexation and resentment was 
 not a little increased by the nonchalance of the- young Scotsman, 
 who, with his hands thrust into his pockets, (with a courtly affecta- 
 tion of the time,) had thrown himself into one of the antique 
 chairs, and, though habitually too polite to laugh aloud, and pos- 
 sessing that art of internal laughter by which men of the world 
 learn to indulge their mirth without incurring quarrels, or giving 
 direct offence, was at no particular trouble to conceal that he was 
 exceedingly amused by the result of the Colonel's visit to Wood- 
 stock. Colonel Everard's patience, however, had reached bounds 
 which it was very likely to surpass ; for, though differing widely in 
 politics, there was a resemblance betwixt the temper of the uncle 
 and nephew. 
 
 " Damnation ! " exclaimed the Colonel, in a tone which became 
 a puritan as little as did the exclamation itself. 
 
 " Amen ! " said Louis Kerneguy, but in a tone so soft and gentle, 
 that the ejaculation seemed rather to escape him than to be de- 
 signedly uttered. 
 
 " Sir ! " said Everard, striding towards him in that sort of 
 humour, when a man, full of resentment, would not unwillingly find 
 an object on which to discharge it. 
 
 " Plait-ilf" said the page, in the most equable tone, looking up 
 in his face with the most unconscious innocence. 
 
 X 2 
 
3o8 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " I wish to know, sir," retorted Everard, " the meaning of that 
 which you said just now ? " 
 
 " Only a pouring out of the spirit, worthy sir,'' returned Kerneguy 
 ^" a small skiff dispatched to Heaven on my own account, to keep 
 company with your holy petition just now expressed." 
 
 " Sir, I have known a merry gentleman's bones broke for such a 
 smile as you wear just now," replied Everard. 
 
 " There, look you now ! " answered the malicious page, who 
 could not weigh even the thoughts of his safety against the enjo)» 
 ment of his jest — " If you had stuck to your professions, worthy sir, 
 you must have choked by this time ; but your round execration 
 bolted like a cork from a bottle of cider, and now allows your wrath 
 to come foaming out after it, in the honest unbaptized language of 
 common ruffians." 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, Master Girnegy," said Phoebe, "forbear 
 giving the Colonel these bitter words ! And do you, good Colonel 
 Markham, scorn to take offence at his hands — ^he is but a 
 boy." 
 
 " If the Colonel or you choose, Mistress Phoebe, you shall find 
 me a man — I think the gentleman can say something to the purpose 
 already. — Probably he may recommend to you the part of the Lady 
 in Comus ; and I only hope his own admiration of John Milton will 
 not induce him to undertake the part of Samson Agonistes, and 
 blow up this old house with execrations, or pull it down in wrath 
 about our ears." 
 
 " Young man," said the Colonel, still in towering passion, " if you 
 respect my principles for nothing else, be grateful for the protection 
 which, but for them, you would not easily attain." 
 
 " Nay, then," said the attendant, " I must fetch those who have 
 more influence with you than I have," and away tripped Phoebe ; 
 while Kerneguy answered Everard in the same provoking tone of 
 calm indifference, — 
 
 " Before you menace me with a thing so formidable as your 
 resentment, you ought to be certain whether I may not be com- 
 pelled by circumstances to deny you the opportunity you seem to 
 point at." 
 
 At this moment Alice, summoned no doubt by her attendant, 
 entered the hall hastily. 
 
 '- Master Kerneguy," she said, " my father requests to see you in 
 Victor Lee's apartment." 
 
 Kerneguy arose and bowed, but seemed determined to remain 
 till Everard's departure, so as to prevent any explanation bet^yixt 
 the cousins. 
 
 " Markham," said Alice, hurriedly — " Cousin Everard — I have 
 but a moment to remain here — for God's sake, do you instantly 
 
WOODSTOCK. 309 
 
 begone !— be cautious and patient— but do not tarry here— my 
 father is fearfully incensed." 
 
 " I have had my uncle's word for that, madam," replied Everard, 
 " as well as his injunction to depart, which I will obey without 
 delay. I was not aware that you would have seconded so harsh an 
 order quite so willingly ; but I go, madam, sensible I leave those 
 behind whose company is more agreeable." 
 
 " Unjust — ungenerous — ungrateful ! " said Alice ; but fearful her 
 words might reach ears for which they were not designed, she 
 spoke them in a voice so feeble, that her cousin, for whom thgy 
 were intended, lost the consolation they were calculated to convey. 
 
 He bowed coldly to Alice, as taking leave, and said with an air 
 of that constrained courtesy which sometimes covers among men 
 of condition, the most deadly hatred, " I believe, Master Kerneguy, 
 that I must make it convenient at present to suppress my own 
 peculiar opinions on the matter which we have hinted at in our 
 conversation, in which case I will send a gentleman, who, I hope, 
 may be able to conquer yours." 
 
 The supposed Scotsman made him a stately, and at the same 
 time a condescending bow, said he should expect the honour of his 
 commands, offered his hand to Mistress Alice, to conduct her 
 back to her father's apartment, and took a triumphant leave of hrs 
 rival. 
 
 Everard, on the other hand, stung beyond his patience, and, from 
 the grace and composed assurance of the youth's carriage, still 
 conceiving him to be either Wilmot, or some of his compeers in 
 rank and profligacy, returned to the town of Woodstock, determined 
 not to be outbearded, even though he should seek redress by means 
 which his principles forbade him to consider as justifiable. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Boundless intemperance 
 
 In nature is a tyranny — it hath been 
 The untimely emptying of many a throne. 
 
 And fall of many kings. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 While Colonel Everard retreated in high indignation from the 
 little refection, which Sir Henry Lee had in his good-humour 
 offered, and withdrawn under the circumstances of provocation 
 which we have detailed, the good old knight, scarce recovered from 
 his fit of passion, partook of it with his daughter and guest, and 
 shortly after, recollecting some silvan task, (for, though to little 
 efficient purpose, he still regularly attended to his duties as 
 
310 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Ranger), he called Bevis, and went out, leaving the two young 
 people together. 
 
 " Now," said the amorous Prince to himself, " that Alice is left 
 •without her lion, it remains to see whether she is herself of a tigress 
 breed. — So, Sir Bevis has left his charge," he said aloud ; " I 
 thought the knights of old, those stern guardians of which he is so 
 fit a representative, were more rigorous in maintaining a vigilant 
 guard." 
 
 " Bevis," said Alice, " knows that his attendance on me is totally 
 needless ; and, moreover, he has other duties to perform, which 
 every true knight prefers to dangling the whole morning by a lady's 
 sleeve." 
 
 " You speak treason against all true affection," said the gallant ; 
 " a lady's lightest wish should to a true knight be more binding 
 than aught excepting the summons of his sovereign. I wish, 
 Mistress Alice, you would but intimate your slightest desire to me, 
 and you should see how I have practised obedience." 
 
 "You never brought me word what o'clock it was this morning," 
 replied the young lady, " and there I sat questioning of the wings of 
 Time, when I should have remembered that gentleman's gallantry 
 can be quite as fugitive as Time himself. How do you know what 
 your disobedience may have cost me and others ? Pudding and 
 pasty may have been burned to a cinder, for, sir, I practise the old 
 domestic rule of visiting the kitchen ; or I may have missed prayers, 
 or I may haye been too late for an appointment, simply by the 
 negligence of Master Louis Kerneguy failing to let me know the 
 hour of the day." 
 
 " O," replied Kerneguy, " I am one of those lovers who cannot 
 endure absence — I must be eternally at the feet of my fair .enemy — 
 such, I think, is the title with which romances teach us to grace the 
 fair and cruel to whom we devote our hearts and lives. — Speak for 
 me, good lute," he added, taking up the instrument, " and show 
 whether I know not my duty." 
 
 He sung, but with more taste than execution, the air of a French 
 rondelai, to which some of the wits or sonnetteers, in his gay and 
 roving train, had adapted English verses. 
 
 An hour with thee ! — When earliest day 
 Dapples with gold the eastern grey, . 
 Oh, what can frame my mind to bear 
 The toil and turmoil, cark and care, 
 New griefs which coming hours unfold, 
 And sad remembrance of the old ? 
 
 One hour with thee. 
 
 One hour with thee ! — When burning June 
 Waves his red flag at pitch of noon ; 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3" 
 
 What shall repjty the faithful swain, 
 
 His labour on the sultry plain ; 
 
 And more than cave or sheltering bough, 
 
 Cool feverish blood, and throbbing brow ? — 
 
 One hour with thee. 
 
 One hour with thee t — When sun is set, 
 
 O, what can teach me to forget 
 
 The thankless labours of the day ; 
 
 The hopes, the wishes, flung away ; 
 
 The increasing wants, and lessening gains. 
 
 The master's pride, who scorns my pains ? 
 
 One hour with thee. 
 
 " Truly, there is another verse," said the songster ; " but I sing 
 it not to you, Mistress Alice, because some of the prudes of the 
 court liked it not." 
 
 " I thank you. Master Louis," answered the young lady, " both for 
 your discretion in singing what has given me pleasure, and in for- 
 bearing what might offend me. Though a country girl, I pretend 
 to be so far of the court mode, as to receive nothing which does not 
 pass current among the better class there." 
 
 " I would," answered Louis, " that you were so well confirmed in 
 their creed, as to let all pass with you, to which court ladies would 
 give currency." 
 
 " And what would be the consequence ?" said Alice, with perfect 
 composure. 
 
 " In that case," said Louis, embarrassed like a general who finds 
 that his preparations for attack do not seem to strike either fear or 
 confusion into the enemy — " in that case you would forgive me, fair 
 Alice, if I spoke to you in a warmer language than that of mere 
 gallantry — if I told you how much my heart was interested in what 
 you consider as idle jesting — if I seriously owned it was in your 
 power to make me the happiest or the most miserable of human 
 beings." 
 
 " Master Kerneguy," said Alice, with the same unshaken non- 
 chalance, " let us understand each other. I am little acquainted 
 with high-bred manners, and I am unwilling, I tell you plainly, to 
 be accounted a silly country girl, who, either from ignorance or 
 conceit, is startled at every word of gallantry addressed to her by a 
 young man, who, for the present, has nothing better to do than coin 
 and circulate such false compliments. But I must not let this fear 
 of seeming rustic and awkwardly timorous carry me too far ; and 
 being ignorant of the exact limits, I will take care to stop within 
 them." 
 
 "I trustj madam," said Kerneguy, "that however severely you 
 
312 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 may be disposed to judge of me, your justice will not punish me too 
 severelyfor an offence, of which your charms are alonethe occasion?" 
 
 " Here me out, sir, if you please," resumed Alice. " I have lis- 
 tened to you when you spoke en berger — nay, my complaisance has 
 been so great, as to answer you en bergire — for I do not think any 
 thing except ridicule can come of dialogues between Lindor and 
 Jeanneton ; and the principal fault of the style is its extreme and 
 tiresome silliness and affectation. But when you begin to kneel, 
 offer to take my hand, and speak with a more serious tone, I must 
 remind you of our real characters. I am the daughter of Sir 
 Henry Lee, sir ; and you are, or profess to be. Master Louis Kerne- 
 guy, my brother's page, and a fugitive for shelter under my father's 
 roof, who incurs danger by the harbour he affords you, and whose 
 household, therefore, ought not to be disturbed by your unpleasing 
 importunities." 
 
 " I would to Heaven, fair Alice," said the King, "*' that your ob- 
 jections to the suit which I am urging, notin jest, but most seriously, 
 as that on which my happiness depends, rested only on the low and 
 precarious station of Louis Kerneguy ! — Alice, thou hast the soul 
 of thy family, and must needs love honour. I am no more the 
 needy Scottish page, whom I have, for my own purposes personated, 
 than I am the awkward lout, whose manners I adopted on the first 
 night of our acquaintance. This hand, poor as I seem, can confer 
 a coronet." 
 
 " Keep it," said Alice, " for some more ambitious damsel, my 
 lord, — for such I conclude is your title, if this romance be true, — I 
 would not accept your hand, could you confer a duchy." 
 
 " In one sense, lovely Alice, you have neither overrated my 
 power nor my affection. It is your King — it is Charles Stewart 
 who speaks to you ! — he can confer duchies, and if beauty can merit 
 them, it is that of Alice Lee. Nay, nay — rise — do not kneel — it is 
 for your sovereign to kneel to thee, Alice, to whom he is a thousand 
 times more devoted, than the wanderer Louis dared venture to 
 profess himself. My Alice has, I know, been trained up in those 
 principles of love and obedience to her sovereign, that she cannot, 
 in conscience or in mercy, inflict on him such a wound as would be 
 implied in the rejection of his suit." 
 
 In spite of all Charles's attempts to prevent her, AUce had per-, 
 severed in kneeling on one knee, until she had touched with her 
 lip the hand with which he attempted to raise her. But this salu- 
 tation ended, she stood upright, with her arms folded on her bosom 
 — her looks humble, but composed, keen and watchful, and so 
 jjossessed of herself, so little flattered by the communication which 
 the King had supposed would have been overpowering, that he 
 scarce knew in what terras next to urge his soUcitation. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 313 
 
 " Thou art silent— thou art silent," he said, " my pretty Alice. 
 Has the King no more influence with thee than the poor Scottish 
 page ? " 
 
 " In one sense, every influence,'' said Alice ; " for he commands 
 my best thoughts, my best wishes, my earnest prayers, my devoted 
 loyalty, which, as the men of the House of Lee have been ever 
 ready to testify with the sword, so are the women bound to seal, if 
 necessary, with their blood. But beyond the duties of a true and 
 devoted subject, the King is even less to Alice Lee than poor Louis 
 Kerneguy. The Page could have tendered an honourable union — 
 the Monarch can but offer a contaminated coronet." 
 
 "You mistake, Alice, — you mistake," said the King, eagerly. 
 " Sit down and let me speak to you— sit down — What is't you 
 fear?" 
 
 " I fear nothing, my liege," answered Alice. " What can I fear 
 from the King of Britain — I, the daughter of his loyal subject, and 
 under my father's roof.'' But I remember the distance betwixt 
 us, and though I might trifle and jest with mine equal, to my 
 King I must only appear in the dutiful posture of a subject, unless 
 where his safety may seem to require that I do not acknowledge 
 his dignity." 
 
 Charles, though young, being no novice in such scenes, was sur- 
 prised to encounter resistance of a kind which had jiot been opposed 
 to him in similar pursuits, even in cases where he had been unsuc- 
 cessful. There was neither anger, nor injured pride, nor disorder, 
 nor disdain, real or affected, in the manners and conduct of Alice. 
 She stood, as it seemed, calmly prepared to argue on the subject, 
 which is generally decided by passion — showed no inclination to 
 escape from the apartment, but appeared determined to hear with 
 patience the suit of the lover — while her countenance and manner 
 intimated that she had this complaisance, only in deference to the 
 commands of the King. 
 
 " She is ambitious," thought Charles ; " it is by dazzling her love 
 of glory, not by mere passionate entreaties, that I must hope to be 
 successful. — I pray you be seated, my fair Alice," he said, " the 
 lover entreats — the King commands you." 
 
 "The King," said Alice, "may permit the relaxation of the 
 ceremonies due to royalty, but he cannot abrogate the subject's 
 duty, even by express command. I stand here while it is your 
 Majesty's pleasure to address me — a patient listener, as in duty 
 bound." 
 
 " Know then, simple girl," said the King, " that in accepting my 
 proffered affection and protection, you break through no law, either 
 of virtue or morality. Those who are born to royalty are deprived 
 of many of the comforts of private life — chiefly that which is, per- 
 
314 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 haps, the dearest and most precious, the power of choosing their 
 own mates for life. Their formal weddings are guided upon prin- 
 ciples of political expedience only, and those to whom they are 
 wedded are frequently, in temper, person, and disposition, the most 
 unlikely to make them happy. Society has commiseration, there- 
 fore, towards us, and binds our unwilling and often unhappy wed- 
 locks with chains of a lighter and more easy character than those 
 which fetter other men, whose marriage ties, as more voluntarily 
 assumed, ought, in proportion, to be more strictly binding. And 
 therefore, ever since the time that old Henry built these walls, 
 priests and prelates, as well as nobles and statesmen, have been 
 accustomed to see a Fair Rosamond rule the heart of an affec- 
 tionate monarch, and console him for the few hours of constraint 
 and state which he must bestow upon some angry and jealous 
 Eleanor. To such a connexion the world attaches no blame ; they 
 rush to the festival to admire the b^uty of the lovely Esther, while 
 the imperious Vashti is left to queen it in solitude ; they throng the 
 palace to ask her protection, whose influence is more in the state 
 an hundred times than that of the proud consort ; her offspring 
 rank with the nobles of the land, and vindicate by their courage, 
 like the celebrated Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, their descent 
 from royalty and from love. From such connexions our richest 
 ranks of nobles are recruited ; and the mother lives, in the great-- 
 ness of her posterity, honoured and blessed, as she died lamented 
 and wept in the arms of love and friendship." 
 
 " Did Rosamond so die, my lord ? " said Alice. " Our records 
 say she was- poisoned by the injured Queen — poisoned, without 
 time allowed to call to God for the pardon of her many faults. 
 Did her memory so live ? I have heard that, when the Bishop 
 purified the church at Godstowe, her monument was broken open 
 by his orders, and , her bones thrown out into unconsecrated 
 ground." 
 
 " Those were rude old days, sweet Alice," answered Charles ; 
 " queens are not now so jealous, nor bishops so rigorous. And 
 know, besides, that, in the lands to which I would lead the loveliest 
 of her sex, other laws obtain, which remove from such ties even 
 the slightest show of scandal. There is a mode of matrimony, 
 which, fulfilling all the rites of the church, leaves no stain on the 
 conscience ; yet investing the bride with none of the privileges 
 peculiar to her husband's condition, infringes not upon the duties 
 which the King owes to his subjects. So that Alice Lee may, in 
 all respects, become the real and lawful wife of Charles Stewart, 
 except that their private union gives her no title to be Queen of 
 England." 
 
 " My ambition," said Alice, " will be sufficiently gratified to see 
 
WOODSTOCK. 315 
 
 Charles king, without aiming to share either his dignity in public, 
 or his wealth and regal luxury in private." 
 
 " I understand thee, Alice," said the King, hurt but not displeased. 
 " You ridicule me, being a fugitive, for speaking like a king. It is 
 a habit, I admit, which I have learned, and of which even misfor- 
 tune cannot cure me. But my case is not so desperate as you may 
 suppose. My friends are still many in these kingdoms ; my allies 
 abroad are bound, by regard to their own interest, to espouse my 
 cause. I have hopes given me from Spain, from France, and from 
 other nations ; and I have confidence that my father's blood has 
 not been poured forth in vain, nor is doomed to dry up without due 
 vengeance. My trust is in Him from whom princes derive their 
 title, and, think what thou wilt of my present condition, I have 
 perfect confidence that I shall one day sit on the throne of England." 
 
 " May God grant it !" said Alice ; " and that he may grant it, 
 noble Prince, deign to consider whether you now pursue a conduct 
 likely to conciliate his favour. Think of the course you recommend 
 to a motherless maiden, who has no better defence against your 
 sophistry, than what a sense of morality, together with the natural 
 feeling of female dignity, inspires. Whether the death of her father, 
 which would be the consequence of her imprudence ; — whether the 
 despair of her brother, whose life has been so often in peril to save 
 that of your Majesty ; — ^whether the dishonour of the roof which has 
 sheltered you, will read well in your annals, or are events likely to 
 propitiate God, whose ^controversy with your House has been but 
 too visible, or recover the affections of the people of England, in 
 whose eyes such actions are an abomination, I leave to your own 
 royal mind to consider." 
 
 Charles paused, struck with a turn to the conversation which 
 placed his own interests more in collision with the gratification of 
 his present passion than he had supposed. 
 
 "If your Majesty," said Alice, curtsying deeply, "has no farther 
 commands for my attendance, may I be permitted to withdraw?" 
 
 " Stay yet a little, strange and impracticable girl," said the King, 
 " and answer me but one question : — Is it the lowness of my present 
 fortunes that makes my suit contemptible ?" 
 
 " I have nothing to conceal, my liege," she said, "and my answer 
 shall be as plain and direct as the question you have asked. If I 
 could have been moved to an act -of ignominious, insane, and un- 
 grateful folly, it could only arise from my being blinded by that 
 passion, which I believe is pleaded as an excuse for folly and for 
 crime much more pften than it has a real existence. I must, in 
 short, have been in love, as it is called — and that might have been 
 with my equal— but surely never with my sovereign, whether such 
 only in title, or in possession of his kingdom." 
 
3i6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Yet loyalty was ever the pride, almost the ruling passion, of 
 your family, Alice," said the King. 
 
 "And could I reconcile that loyalty," said Alice, " with indulging 
 my sovereign, by permitting him to prosecute a suit dishonourable 
 to himself as to me ? Ought I, as a faithful subject, to join him in 
 a folly, which might throw yet another stumbhng-block in the path 
 to his restoration, and could only serve to diminish his security, 
 even if he were seated upon his throne?" 
 
 "At this rate," said Charles, discontentedly, " I had better have 
 retained my character of the page, than assumed that of a sovereign, 
 which it seems is still more irreconcilable with my wishes." 
 
 " My candour shall go still farther," said Alice. " I could have 
 felt as little for Louis Kerneguy as for the heir of Britain ; for such 
 love as I have to bestow, (and it is not such as I read of in romance, 
 or hear poured forth in song,) has been already conferred on another 
 object. This gives your Majesty pain — I am sorry for it — ^but the 
 wholesomest medicines are often bitter." 
 
 " Yes," answered the King, with some asperity, " and physicians 
 are reasonable enough to expect their patients to swallow them, as 
 if they were honeycomb. — It is true, then, that whispered tale of 
 the cousin Colonel ; and the daughter of the loyal Lee has set her 
 heart upon a rebellious fanatic ?" 
 
 " My love was given ere I knew what these words fanatic and 
 rebel meant. ■ I recalled it not, for I am satisfied, that amidst the 
 great distractions which divide the kingdom, the person to whom you 
 allude has chosen his part, erroneously perhaps, but conscientiously 
 — he, therefore, has still the highest place in my affection and esteem. 
 More he cannot have, and will not ask, until some happy turn shall 
 reconcile these public differences, and my father be once more re-' 
 conciled to him. Devoutly do I pray that such an event may occur 
 by your Majesty's speedy and unanimous restoration !" 
 
 " You have found out a reason," said the King, pettishly, " to 
 make me detest the thought of such a change — nor have you, Alice, 
 any sincere interest to pray for it. On the contrary, do you not see 
 that your lover, walking side by side with Cromwell, may, or rather 
 must, share his power ? nay, if Lambert does not anticipate him, he 
 may trip up Oliver's heels, and reign in his stead. And think you 
 not he will find means to overcome the pride of the loyal Lees, and 
 achieve an union, for which things are better prepared than that 
 which Cromwell is said to meditate betwixt one of his brats and the 
 no less loyal heir of Fauconberg?" 
 
 " Your Majesty," said Alice, " has found a way at length to avenge 
 yourself— if what I have said deserves vengeance." 
 
 " I could point out a yet shorter road to your union," said Charles, 
 without minding her distress, or perhaps enjoying the pleasure of 
 
WOODSTOCK. 317 
 
 retaliation. " Suppose that you sent your Colonel word that there 
 was one Charles Stewart here, who had come to disturb the Saints 
 in their peaceful government, which they had acquired by prayer 
 and preaching, pike and gun — and suppose he had the art to bring 
 down a half-score of troopers, quite enough, as times go, to decide 
 the fate of this heir of royalty — think you not the possession of such 
 a prize as this might obtain from the Rumpers, or from Cromwell, 
 such a reward as might overcome your father's objections to a 
 roundhead's alliance, and place the fair Alice and her cousin Colonel 
 in full possession of their wishes ?" 
 
 " My liege," said Alice, her cheeks glowing, and her eyes sparkling 
 —for she too had her share of the hereditary temperament of her 
 family, — " this passes my patience. I have heard, without express- 
 ing anger, the most ignominious persuasions addressed to myself, 
 and I have vindicated myself for refusing to be the paramour of a 
 fugitive Prince, as if I had been excusing myself from accepting a 
 share of an actual crown — But do you think I can hear all who are 
 dear to me slandered without emotion or reply? I will not, sir; 
 and were you seated with all the terrors of your father's Star-cham- 
 ber around you, you should hear me defend the absent and the 
 innocent. Of my father I will say nothing, but that if he is now 
 without wealth — without state, almost without a sheltering home 
 and needful food — it is because he spent all in the service of the 
 King. He needed not to commit any act of treachery or villainy to 
 obtain wealth — he had an ample competence in his own possessions. 
 For Markham Everard — he knows no such thing as selfishness — 
 he would not, for broad England, had she the treasures of Peru in 
 her bosom, and a paradise on her surface, do a deed that would 
 disgrace his own name, or injure the feehngs of another — Kings, my 
 liege, may take a lesson from him. My liege, for the present I take 
 my leave." 
 
 " Alice, Alice— stay !" exclaimed the King. " She is gone. — This 
 must be virtue — real, disinterested, overawing virtue — or there is no 
 such thing on earth. Yet Wilmot and Villiers will not believe a 
 word of it, but add the tale to the other wonders of Woodstock. — 
 'Tis a rare wench ! and I profess, to use the Colonel's obtestation, 
 that I know not whether to forgive and be friends with her, or study 
 a dire revenge. If it were not for that accursed cousin — that 
 puritan Colonel — I could forgive every thing else to so noble a 
 wench. But a roundheaded rebel preferred to me — the preference 
 avowed to my face, and justified with the assertion, that a King 
 might take a lesson from him — it is gall and wormwood. If the 
 old man had not come up this morning as he did, the King should 
 have taken or given a lesson, and a severe one. It was a mad 
 rencontre to venture upon with my rank and responsibihty — and 
 
3i8 WOObSTOCli. 
 
 yet this wench has made me so angry with her, and so envious of 
 him, that if an opportunity offered, I should scarce be able to forbear 
 him. — Ha ! — whom have we here ?" 
 
 The interjection at the conclusion of this royal soliloquy, was 
 occasioned by the unexpected entrance of another personage of 
 the drama. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Benedick. Shall I speak a word in your ear ? 
 Claudia. God bless me from a challenge ! 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 As Charles was about to leave the apartment, he was prevented 
 by the appearance of Wildrake, who entered with an unusual degree 
 of swagger in his gait, and of fantastic importance on his brow. 
 " I crave your pardon,' fair sir," he said ; " but, as they say in my 
 country, when doors are open dogs enter. I have knocked and 
 galled in the hall to no purpose ; so, knowing the way to this 
 parlour, sir, — for I am a light partisan, and the road I once travel 
 I never forget, I ventured to present myself unannounced." 
 
 " Sir Henry Lee is abroad, sir, I believe, in the Chase," said 
 Charles, coldly, for the appearance of this somewhat vulgar 
 debauchee was not agreeable to him at the moment, " and Master 
 Albert Lee has left the Lodge for two or three days." 
 
 " I am aware of it, sir," said Wildrake ; " but I have no business 
 at present with either." 
 
 " And with whom is your business ? " said Charles ; " that is, if 
 I may be permitted to ask — since I think it cannot in possibility 
 be with me." 
 
 " Pardon me in turn, sir," answered the cavalier ; " in no possi- 
 bility can it be imparted to any other but yourself, if you be, as I 
 think you are, though in something better habit, Master Louis 
 Girnigo, the Scottish gentleman who waits upon Master Albert 
 Lee." 
 
 " I am all you are like to find for him," answered Charles. 
 
 " In truth," said the cavalier, " I do perceive a difference, but 
 rest and better clothing will do much ; and I am glad of it, since 
 I would be sorry to have brought a message, such as I am charged' 
 with, to a tatterdemahon." 
 
 " Let us get to the business, sir, if you please," said the King— 
 " you have a message for me, you say ? " 
 
 " True, sir," replied Wildrake ; " I am the friend of Colonel 
 Markham Everard, sir, a tall man, and a worthy person in the field, 
 although I could wish him a better cause— A message I have to 
 you, it is certain, in a slight note, which I take the liberty of pre- 
 
WOODSTOCK. 319 
 
 senting with the usual formalities.'' So saying, he drew his sword, 
 put the billet he mentioned upon the point, and, making a profound 
 bow, presented it to Charles. 
 
 The disguised Monarch accepted of it, with a grave return of 
 the salute, and said, as he was about to open the letter, " I am not, 
 I presume, to expect friendly contents in an epistle presented in so 
 hostile a manner ? " 
 
 " A-hem, sir," replied the ambassador, clearing his voice, while 
 he arranged a suitable answer, in which |the mild strain of diplo- 
 macy might be properly maintained ,• " not utterly hostile, I 
 suppose, sir, is the invitation, though it be such as must be con- 
 strued in the commencement rather bellicose and pugnacious. I 
 trust, sir, we shall find that a few thrusts will make a handsome 
 conclusion of the business ; and so, as my old master used to 
 say, Pax nascitur ex bello. For my own poor share, I am truly 
 glad to have been graced by my friend Markham Everard in this 
 matter — the rather as I feared the puritan principles with which he 
 is imbued, (I will confess the truth to you, worthy sir,) might have 
 rendered him unwiUing, from certain scruples, to have taken the 
 gentlemanlike and honourable mode of righting himself in such a 
 case as the present. And as I render a friend's duty to my friend, 
 so I humbly hope. Master Louis Girnigo, that I do no injustice to 
 you, in preparing the way for the proposed meeting, where, give me 
 leave to say, I trust, that if no fatal accident occur, we shall be all 
 better friends when the skirmish is over than we were before it 
 began." 
 
 " I should suppose so, sir, in any case," said Charles looking at 
 the letter ; "worse than mortal enemies we can scarce be, and it is 
 that footing upon which this billet places us." 
 
 "You say true, sir," said Wildrake ; "it is, sir, a cartel, intro- 
 ducing to a single combat, for the pacific object of restoring a perfect 
 good understanding betwixt the survivors — in case that fortunately 
 that word can be used in the plural after the event of the meeting. 
 
 " In short, we only fight, I suppose," replied the King, " that we 
 may come to a perfectly good and amicable understanding ? " 
 
 " You are right again, sir ; and I thank you for the clearness of 
 your apprehension," said Wildrake. — " Ah, sir, it is easy to do with 
 a person of honour and of intellect in such a case as this. And I 
 beseech you, sir, as a personal kindness to myself, that, as the 
 morning is like to be frosty, and myself am in some sort rheumatic 
 — as war will leave its scars behind, sir, — I say, I will entreat of 
 you to bring with you some gentleman of honour, who will not 
 disdain to take part of what is going forward^a sort of pot-luck, 
 sir, — with a poor old soldier like myself — that we may take no harm 
 by standing unoccupied during such cold weather." 
 
320 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " I understand, sir," replied Charles ; " if this matter goes for- 
 ward, be assured I will endeavour to provide you with a suitable 
 opponent." 
 
 " I shall remain greatly indebted to you, sir," said Wildrake ; 
 " and I am by no means curious about the quality of my anta- 
 gonist. — It is true I write myself esquire and gentleman, and 
 should account myself especially honoured by crossing my sword 
 with that of Sir Henry or Master Albert Lee ; but, should that 
 not be convenient, I will not refuse to present my poor person in 
 opposition to any gentleman who has served the King, which I 
 always hold as a sort of letters of nobility in itself, and, therefore, 
 would on no account decline the duello with such a person." 
 
 "The King is much obliged to you, sir," said the disguised 
 Prince, " for the honour you do his faithful subjects.'' 
 
 " O, sir, I am scrupulous on that point — very scrupulous. — When 
 there is a roundhead in question, I consult the Herald's books, to 
 see that he is entitled to bear arms, as is Master Markham Everard, 
 without which, I promise you, I had borne none of his cartel. 
 But a cavalier is with me a gentleman, of course — Be his birth 
 ever so low, his loyalty has ennobled his condition." 
 
 " It is well, sir," said the King. " This paper requests me to 
 meet Master Everard at six to-morrow morning, at the tree called 
 the King's Oak. — I object neither to place nor time. He proffers 
 the sword, at which, he says, we possess some equahty — I do not 
 decline the weapon ; for company, two gentlemen — I shall endea- 
 vour to procure myself an associate, and a suitable partner for you, 
 sir, if you incline to join in the dance." 
 
 " I kiss your hand, sir, and rest yours, under a sense of obliga- 
 tion," answered the envoy. 
 
 " I thank you, sir," continued the King ; " I will therefore be 
 ready at place and time, and suitably furnished ; and I will either 
 give your friend such satisfaction with my sword as he requires, or 
 will render him such cause for not doing so as he will be contented 
 with." 
 
 " You will excuse me, sir," said Wildrake, " if my mind is too 
 dull, under the circumstances, to conceive any alternative that can 
 remain betwixt two men of honour in such a case, excepting — sa 
 — sa — ! " He threw himself into a fencing position, and made a 
 pass with his sheathed rapier, but not directed towards the person 
 of the King, whom he addressed. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said Charles, " if I do not trouble your intel- 
 lects with the consideration of a case which may not occur. — But, 
 for example, I may plead urgent employment on the part of the 
 the public." — This he spoke in a low and mysterious tone of voice, 
 which Wildrake appeared perfectly to comprehend ; for he laid his 
 
WOODSTOCK, 321 
 
 forefinger on his nose with what he meant for a very intelligent 
 and apprehensive nod. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " if you be engaged in any affair for the King, 
 my friend shall have every reasonable degree of patience — Nay, I 
 will fight him myself in your stead, merely to stay his stomach, 
 rather than you should be interrupted. — And, sir, if you can find 
 room in your enterprise for a poor gentleman that has followed 
 Lunsford and Goring, you have but to name day, time, and place 
 of rendezvous ; for truly, sir, I am tired of the scald hat, cropped 
 hair, and undertaker's cloak, with which my friend has bedizened 
 me, and would willingly ruffle it out once more in the King's 
 cause, when whether I he banged or hanged, I care not." 
 
 " I shall remember what you say, sir, should an opportunity 
 occur," said the King ; " and I wish his Majesty had many such 
 subjects. I presume our business is now settled ? " 
 
 " When you shall have been pleased, sir, to give me a trifling 
 scrap of writing, to serve for my credentials— for such, you know, 
 is the custom — your written cartel hath its written answer." 
 
 " That, sir, will I presently do," said Charles, " and in good time 
 — here are the materials." 
 
 " And, sir," continued the envoy — " Ahi ! — ahem ! — if you have 
 interest in the household for a cup of sack — I am a man of few 
 words, and am somewhat hoarse with much speaking — moreover, a 
 serious business of this kind always makes one thirsty. — Besides, 
 sir, to part with dry lips argues malice, which God forbid should 
 exist in such an honourable conjuncture." 
 
 " I do not boast much influence in the house, sir," said the 
 King ; " but if you would have the condescension to accept 
 of this broad piece towards quenching your thirst at the 
 George " 
 
 " Sir," said the cavalier, (for the times admitted of this strange 
 species of courtesy, nor was Wildrake a man of such peculiar 
 delicacy as keenly to dispute the matter,)—"! am once again 
 beholden to you. But I see not how it consists with my honour 
 to accept of such accommodation, unless you were to accompany 
 and partake ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," repUed Charles, " my safety recommends that 
 I remain rather private at present." 
 
 " Enough said," Wildrake observed ; " poor cavaliers must not 
 stand on ceremony. I see, sir, you understand cutter's law — when 
 one tall fellow has coin, another must not be thirsty. 1 wish you, 
 sir, a continuance of health and happiness until to-morrow, at the 
 King's Oak, at six o'clock." 
 
 " Farewell, sir," said the King, and added, as Wildrake went 
 down the stair whistling, " Hey for cavaliers," to which air his long 
 
 Y 
 
322 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 rapier, jarring against the steps and fiaiiistefs, bore no unsuitable 
 burden—" Farewell, thou too just emblem'of the state, to which 
 war, and defeat, and despair, have reduced many a gallant 
 gentleman." 
 
 During the reist of the day, there occurred nothing peculiarly 
 deserving of notice. Alice sedulously avoided showing towards 
 the disguised Prince any degree of estrangement or shyness, which 
 could be discovered by her father, or by any one else. To all 
 appearance, the two young persons continued on the same footing 
 in every respect. Yet she made the gallant himself sensible, that 
 this apparent intimacy was assumed merely .to save appearanc^es, 
 and in no way designed as retracting from the' severity 'with whicli 
 she had rejected his suit. The sense that this was the case, jpineci 
 to his injured self-love, and his enmity against a. successful rival, 
 induced Charles early to witbdraw hiijiself to a sblita;-y 'wa,lk ■ in 
 the wilderness, where, like Hercules in the Emblem of Cebes, 
 divided betwixt the personifications of Virtue and of Pleasure,,he 
 listened alternately to the voice of 'Wisdom and of passionate 
 
 Fo%- - •-- 
 
 Prudence urged to him the importance of his own life to .the 
 future prosecution of the great object in which he had for the 
 present miscarried — the restoration of monarchy in England, the 
 rebuilding of the thronq, the regaining the crown of his father, the 
 avenging his death, and restoring to their fortunes and th.eir 
 country the numerous exiles, who were suffering poverty and 
 banishment on account of their attachment to his cause. Pride 
 too, or rather a just and natural sense of dignity, displayed the ,un- 
 worthiness of a Prince descending to actual personal conflict, with 
 a subject of any degree, and the ridicule which would be thrown on 
 his memory, should he lose his life for an obscure, intrigue by the 
 hand of a private gentleman. What would his sage counsellors, 
 Nicholas and Hyde — what would his Kind and wise governor, the 
 Marquis of H'ertfprd, say to such an act of rashness and folly? 
 ■Would it not be likely to shake the allegiance of the staid and pru- 
 dent persons of the royalist party, since wherefore should they 
 expose their lives and estates to raise to the government of a king- 
 dom a young mail who could not command his own temper? To 
 this was to be added, the consideration that even his success would 
 add double difficulties to his escape, which already seemed iufij- 
 cjently precarious. If, stopping short of death; he merely had the 
 better of his antagonist, how did he know that he might not seek 
 revenge by delivering up to government the Malignant LoUis 
 Kerneguy, whose real character could not in that case fail to be 
 discovered ? 
 These considerations strongly recommended to Charles that 
 
WOODSTOCK, 323 
 
 he should clear himself of the challenge without fighting ; and the 
 reservation under which he had accepted it, afforded him some 
 opportunity of doing so. 
 
 But Passion also had her arguments, which she addressed to a 
 temper rendered irritable by recent distress and mortification. In 
 the first place, if he was a prince, he was also a gentleman, entitled 
 to resent as such, and obliged to give or claim the satisfaction 
 expected on occasion of differences among gentlemen. With 
 Englishmen, she urged, he could never lose interest by showing 
 himself ready, instead of sheltering himself under his royal birtK 
 and pretensions, to come frankly forward, and maintain what he 
 had done or said on his own responsibility. In a free nation, it 
 seemed as if he would rather gain than lose in the public estima- 
 tion by a conduct which could not but seem gallant and generous. 
 Then a character for courage was far more necessary to support 
 his pretensions, than any other kind of reputation ; and the lying 
 under a challenge, without replying to it, might bring his spirit 
 into question. What would Villiers and Wilmot say of an intrigue, 
 in which he had allowed himself to be shamefully baffled by a 
 country girl, and had failed to revenge himself on his rival ? The 
 pasquinades which they would compose, the witty sarcasms which 
 they would circulate on the occasion, would be harder to endure 
 than the grave rebukes of Hertford, Hyde, and Nicholas. This 
 reflection, added to the stings of youthful and awakened courage, 
 at length fixed his resolution, and he returned to Woodstock 
 determined to keep his appointment, come of it what might. 
 
 Perhaps there mingled with his resolution a secret belief that 
 such a rencontre would not prove fatal. He was in the flower of 
 his youth, active in all his exercises, and no way inferior to Colonel 
 Everard, as far as the morning's experiment had gone, in that of 
 self-defence. At least such recollection might pass through his 
 royal mind, as he hummed to himself a well-known ditty, which he 
 had picked up during his residence in Scotland — 
 
 " Ajnan may drink and not he drunk ; 
 A man may fight and not be slain ; 
 A man may kiss a bonnie lass, 
 And y€t be welcomed back again." 
 
 Meanwhile the busy and all-directing Doctor Rochecliffe had 
 contrived to intimate to Alice that she must give him a private 
 audience, and she found him by appointment in what was called 
 the study, once filled with ancient books, which, long since con- 
 verted into cartridges, had made more noise in the world at their 
 final exit, than during the space which had intervened betwixt that 
 and their first publication. The Doctor seated himself in a high- 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 backed leathern easy-chair, and signed to Alice to fetch a stool 
 and sit down beside him. 
 
 " Alice," said the old man, taking her hand affectionately, " thou 
 art a good girl, a wise girl, a virtuous girl, one of those whose price 
 is above rubies — not that rubies is the proper translation — but 
 remind me to tell you of that another time — Alice, thou knowest 
 who this Louis Kerneguy is — nay, hesitate not to me — I know 
 every thing — I am well aware of the whole matter. — Thou knowest 
 this honoured house holds the Fortunes of England." Alice was 
 about to answer. — " Nay, speak not, but listen to me, Alice, — How 
 does he bear himself towards you ? " 
 
 Alice coloured with the deepest crimson. — " I am a country-bred 
 girl," she said, " and his manners are too courtlike for me." 
 
 " Enough said — I know it all, — Alice, he is exposed to a great 
 danger to-morrow, and you must be the happy means to prevent 
 him." 
 
 "I prevent him! — ^how, and in what manner?" said Alice, in 
 surprise. — " It is my duty, as a subject, to do any thing — any thing 
 that may become my father's daughter" 
 
 Here she stopped, considerably embarrassed. 
 
 "Yes," continued the Doctor, "to-morrow he hath made an 
 appointment — an appointment with Markham Everard ; the hour 
 and place are set — six in the morning, by the King's Oak, If they 
 meet, one will probably fall." 
 
 " Now, may God forefend they should meet," said Alice, turning 
 as suddenly pale as she had previously reddened. "But harm can- 
 not come of it — Everard will never lift his sword against the 
 King." 
 
 " For that," said Doctor Rochecliffe, " I would not warrant. 
 But if that unhappy young gentleman shall have still some reserve 
 of the loyalty which his general conduct entirely disavows, it would 
 not serve us here ; for he knows not the King, but considers him 
 merely as a cavalier, from whom he has received injury." 
 
 " Let him know the truth, Doctor Rochecliffe, let him know it 
 instantly," said Alice; "A« lift hand against the King, a fugitive 
 and defenceless ! He is incapable of it. My life on the issue, he 
 becomes most active in his preservation." 
 
 " That is the thought of a maiden, Alice," answered the Doctor ; 
 "and, as I fear, of a maiden whose wisdom is misled by her 
 affections. It were worse than treason to admit a rebel officer, the 
 friend of the arch-traitor Cromwell, into so great a secret. I dare 
 not answer for such rashness. Hammond was trusted by his 
 father, and you know what came of it." 
 
 " Then let my father know. He will meet Markham, or send to 
 him, representing the indignity done to him by attacking his 
 guest." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 385 
 
 " We dare not let your father into the secret who Louis Kerneguy 
 really is. I did but hint the possibility of Charles taking refuge at 
 Woodstock, and the rapture into which Sir Henry broke out, the 
 preparations for accommodation and defence which he began to 
 talk of, plainly showed that the mere enthusiasm of his loyalty 
 would have led to a risk of discovery. It is you, Alice, who must 
 save the hopes of every true royalist." 
 
 "I ! " answered Alice ; " it is impossible. Why cannot my 
 father be induced to interfere, as in behalf of his friend and guest, 
 though he know him as no other than Louis Kerneguy ? " 
 
 " You have forgot your father's character, my young friend," said 
 the Doctor — " an excellent man, and the best of Christians, till 
 there is a clashing of swords, and then he starts up the complete 
 martialist, as deaf to a-very pacific reasoning, as if he were a 
 game-cock." 
 
 " You forget. Doctor Rochecliffe," said Alice, " that this very 
 morning, if I understand the thing aright, my father prevented 
 them from fighting." 
 
 " Ay," answered the doctor, " because he deemed himself bound 
 to keep the peace in the Royal Park ; but it was done with such 
 regret, Alice, that, should he find them at it again, I am clear to 
 foretell he will only so far postpone the combat as to conduct them 
 to some unprivileged ground, and there bid them tilt and welcome, 
 while he regaled his eyes with a scene so pleasing — No, Alice, it is 
 you, and you only, who can help us in this extremity." 
 
 " I see no possibility," said she, again colouring, " how I can be 
 of the least use." 
 
 " You must send a note," answered Doctor Rochecliffe, " to the 
 King — a note such as all women know how to write better than any 
 man can teach them — to meet you at the precise hour of the 
 rendezvous. He will not fail you, for I know his unhappy foible." 
 
 " Doctor Rochecliffe," said Alice, gravely — " you have known me 
 from infancy — What have you seen in me to induce you to believe 
 that I should ever follow such unbecoming counsel ? " 
 
 " And if you have known 7ne from infancy," retorted the Doctor, 
 " what have you seen of me that you should suspect me of giving 
 counsel to my friend's daughter which it would be misbecoming in 
 her to follow ? You cannot be fool enough, I think, to suppose, 
 that I mean you should carry your complaisance farther than to 
 keep him in discourse for an hour or two, till I have all in readiness 
 for his leaving this place, from which I can frighten him by the 
 terrors of an alleged search ? — So, C. S. mounts his horse and 
 rides off, and Mistress Alice Lee has the honour of saving him." 
 
 " Yes, at the expense of her own reputation," said Alice, " and 
 the risk of an eternal stain on my family.— You say you know all— 
 
326 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 What can the King think of my appointing an assignation with 
 him after what has passed, and how will it be possible to disabuse 
 him respecting the purpose of my doing so ? " 
 
 " I will disabuse him, Alice ; I will explain the whole." 
 
 "Doctor Rochecliffe," said Alice, "you propose what is im- 
 possible. You can do much by your ready wit and great wisdom ; 
 but if new-fallen snow were once sullied,"not all your art could wash 
 it white again ; and it is altogether the same with a maiden's 
 reputation." 
 
 " Alice, my dearest child," said the Doctor, " bethink you that if 
 I recommend this means of saving the life of the King, at least 
 rescuing him from instant peril, it is because I see no other of 
 which to avail myself. If I bid you assume, even for a moment, 
 the semblance of what is wrong, it is but in the last extremity, ani^ 
 under circumstances which cannot return — I will take the surest 
 means to prevent all evil report which can arise from what I 
 recommend." 
 
 " Say not so. Doctor,'' said Alice ; " better undertake to turn back 
 the Isis than to stop the course of calumny. The King will make 
 boast to his whole licentious court, of the ease with which, but for 
 a sudden alarm, he could have brought off Alice Lee as a paramour 
 — the mouth which confers honour on others, will then be the 
 means to deprive me of mine. Take a fitter course, one more be- 
 coming your own character and profession. Do not lead him to fail 
 in an engagement of honour, by holding out the prospect of another 
 engagement equally dishonourable, whether false or true. Go to 
 the King himself, speak to him, as the servants of God have a right 
 to speak, even to earthly sovereigns. Point out to him the folly and 
 the wickedness of the course he is about to pursue — urge upon him, 
 that he fear the sword, since wrath bringeth the punishment of the 
 sword. Tell him, that the friends who died for him in tha field at 
 Worcester, on the scaffolds, and on the gibbets, since that bloody 
 day — that the remnant who are in prison, scattered, fled, and ruined 
 on his account, deserve better of him and his father's race, than 
 that he should throw away his life in an idle brawl — Tell him, that 
 it is dishonest to venture that which is not his own, dishonourable 
 to betray the trust which brave men have reposed in his virtue and 
 in his courage." 
 
 Doctor Rochecliffe looked on her with a melancholy smile, his 
 eyes glistening as he said, " Alas, Alice, even I could not plead that 
 just cause to him so eloquently or so impressively as thou dost. 
 But, alack ! Charles would listen to neither. It is not from priests, 
 or women, he would say, that men should receive counsel in aff^rs 
 of honour." 
 
 "Then, hear me. Doctor Rochecliffe— I will appear at the place 
 
WOODSTOCK. 32; 
 
 of rendezvous, and I will prevent the combat— do iiot fear that I 
 can do what I say — at a sacrifice, indeed, but not that of my re- 
 putation. My heart may be broken" — she endeavoured to stifle 
 her sobs with difficulty — "for the consequence— but not in the 
 imagination of a man, and far less that man her sovereign, shall a 
 thought of Alice Lee be associated with dishonour." She hid her 
 face in her handkerchief, and burst out into unrestrained tears. 
 
 " What means this hysterical passion ?" said Doctor Rochecliffe, 
 surprised and somewhat alarmed by the vehemence of her grief— 
 " Maiden, I must have no concealments— I must know." 
 
 " Exert your ingenuity, then, and discover it," said Alice — for a 
 moment put out of temper at the Doctor's pertinacious self-import- 
 ance — " Guess my purpose, as you can guess at everything else. It is 
 enough to have to go through my task, I will not endure the distress 
 of telling it over, and that to one who — forgive me, dear Doctor — 
 might not think my agitation on this occasion fully warranted." 
 
 " Nay, then, my young mistress, you must be ruled," said Roche- 
 cliffe; "and if I cannot make you explain yourself I must see 
 whether your father can gain so far on you." So saying, he arose 
 somewhat displeased, and walked towards the door. 
 
 "You forget what you yourself told me, Doctor Rochecliffe," 
 said Alice, " of the risk of communicating this great secret to my 
 father." 
 
 " It is too true " — he said, stopping short and turning round ; 
 "and I think, wench, thou art" too smart for me, and I have not 
 met many such. But thou art a good girl, and wilt tell me thy 
 device of free-will — it concerns my character and influence with the 
 King, that I should be fully acquainted with whatever is actum 
 atque tractatum, done and treated of in this matter." 
 
 " Trust your character to me, good Doctor," said Alice, attempt- 
 ing to smile ; " it is of firmer stuff than those of women, and will be 
 safer in my custody than mine could have been in yours. And 
 thus much I condescend — you shall see the whole scene — you shall 
 go with me yourself, and much will I feel emboldened and heartened 
 by your company." 
 
 "That is something," said the Doctor, though not altogether 
 satisfied with this limited confidence—" Thou wert ever a clever 
 wench, and I will trust thee— indeed, trust thee I find I must, 
 whether voluntarily or no." 
 
 "Meet me, then," said Alice, "in the wilderness to-morrow. 
 But first tell me, are you well assured of time and place ?— a mistake 
 were fatal." 
 
 "Assure yourself my information is entirely accuj-ate," said the 
 Doctor, resuming his air of consequence, which had been a little 
 diminished during the latter part of their conference. 
 
328 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " May I ask," said Alice, " through what channel you acquired 
 such important information ? " 
 
 " You may ask, unquestionably," he answered, now completely 
 restored to his supremacy ; " but whether 1 Vill answer or not, is a 
 very different question. I conceive neither your reputation nor 
 my own is interested in your remaining in ignorance on that subject. 
 So I have my secrets as well as you, mistress ; and some of them, 
 I fancy, are a good deal more worth knowing." 
 
 " Be it so," said Alice, quietly ; " if you will meet me in the 
 wilderness by the broken dial at half-past five exactly, we will 
 go together to-morrow, and watch them as they come to the rendez- 
 vous. I will on the way get the better of my present timidity, and 
 explain to you the means I design to employ to prevent mischief. 
 You can perhaps think of making some effort which may render 
 my interference, unbecoming and painful as it must be, altogether 
 unnecessary." 
 
 " Nay, my child," said the Doctor, " if you place yourself in my 
 hands, you will be the first that ever had reason to complain of my 
 want of conduct, and you may well judge you are the very last (one 
 . excepted) whom I would see suffer for want of counsel. — ^At half- 
 past five, then, at the dial in the wilderness — and God bless our 
 undertaking ! " 
 
 Here their interview was interrupted by the sonorous voice of 
 Sir Henry Lee, which shouted their names, "Daughter Alice — 
 Doctor Rochecliffe,'? through passage and gallery. 
 
 " What do you here," said he, entering, " sitting like two crows 
 in a mist, when we have such rare sport below ? Here is this wild 
 crackbrained boy Louis Kerneguy, now making me laugh till my 
 sides are fit to split, and now playing on his guitar sweetly enough 
 to win a lark from the heavens. — Come away with you, come away. 
 It is hard work to laugh alone." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 This is the place, the centre of the grove ; 
 Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood. 
 
 John Home. 
 
 The sun had risen on the broad boughs of the forest, but with- 
 out the power of penetrating into its recesses, which hung rich 
 with heavy dewdrops, and were beginning on some of the trees to 
 exhibit the varied tints of autumn; it being the season when 
 Nature, like a prodigal whose race is wellnigh run, seems desirous 
 to make up in profuse gaiety and variety of colours, for the short 
 space which her splendour has then to endure. The birds were 
 
WOODSTOCK. 329 
 
 silent— and even Robin-red-breast, whose chirruping song was 
 heard among the bushes near the Lodge, emboldened by the 
 largesses with which the good old knight always encouraged his 
 familiarity, did not venture into the recesses of the wood, where he 
 encountered the sparrowhawk, and other enemies of a similar 
 description, prefferring the vicinity of the dwellings of man, from 
 whom he, almost solely among the feathered tribes, seems to ex- 
 perience disinterested protection. 
 
 The scene was therefore at once lovely and silent, when the 
 good Doctor Rochecliffe, wrapped in a scarlet roquelaure, which 
 had seen service in its day, muffling his face more from habit than 
 necessity, and supporting Alice on his arm, (she also defended by 
 a cloak against the cold and damp of the autumn morning,) glided 
 through the tangled and long grass of the darkest alleys, almost 
 ankle-deep in dew, towards the place appointed for the intended 
 duel. Both so eagerly maintained the consultation in which they 
 were engaged, that they were alike insensible of the roughness and 
 discomforts of the road, though often obliged to force their way 
 through brushwood and coppice, which poured down on them all 
 the liquid pearls with which they were loaded, till the mantles they 
 were wrapped in hung lank by their sides, and clung to their 
 shoulders heavily charged with moisture. They stopped when 
 they had attained a station under the coppice, and shrouded by it, 
 from which they could see all that passed on the little esplanade 
 before the King's Oak, whose broad and scathed form, contorted 
 and shattered limbs, and frowning brows, made it appear like some 
 ancient warworn champion, well selected to be the umpire of a 
 field of single combat. 
 
 The first person who appeared at the rendezvous" was the gay 
 cavalier Roger Wildrake. He also was wrapped in his cloak, but 
 had discarded his puritanic beaver, and wore in its stead a Spanish 
 hat, with a feather and gilt hatband, all of which had encountered 
 bad weather and hard service ; but to make amends for the ap- 
 pearance of poverty by the show of pretension, the castor was 
 accurately adjusted after what was rather profanely called the 
 d — me cut, used among the more desperate cavaliers. He ad- 
 vanced hastily, and exclaimed aloud — " First in the field after all, 
 by Jove, though I bilked Everard in order to have my morning 
 draught. — It has done me much good," he added, smacking his 
 lips. — "Well, I suppose I should search the ground ere my prin- 
 cipal comes up, whose Presbyterian watch trudges as slow as his 
 Presbyterian step." 
 
 He took his rapier from under his cloak, and seemed about to 
 search the thickets around. 
 
 " I will prevent him," whispered the Doctor to Alice. " I will 
 
330 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 keep faith with you — ^you shall not come on the scene — nisi dignus 
 vindice nodus — I'll explain that another time. Viiidex is feminine 
 as well as masculine, so the quotation is defensible. — Keep you 
 close." 
 
 So saying, he stepped forward on the esplanade, and bowed to 
 Wildrake. 
 
 " Master Louis Kerneguy," said Wildrake, pulling off his hat ; 
 but instantly discovering his error, he added, " But no — I beg 
 your pardon, sir — Fatter, shorter, older. — Mr. Kerneguy's friend, 
 I suppose, with whom I hope to have a turn by and by. — And why 
 not now, sir, before our principals come up ? just a snack to stay 
 the orifice of the stomach, till the dinner is served, sir ? What say 
 you?" 
 
 " To open the orifice of the stomach more likely, or to give it a 
 new one," said the Doctor. 
 
 " True, sir," said Roger, who seemed now in his element ; " you 
 say well — that is as thereafter may be. — But come, sir, you wear 
 your face muffled. I grant you, it is honest men's fashion at this 
 unhappy time ; the more is the pity. But We do all above board — 
 we have no traitors here. I'll get into my gears first, to encourage 
 you, and show you that you have to deal with a gentleman, who 
 honours the King, and is a match fit to fight with any who follow 
 him, as doubtless you do, sir, since you are the friend of Master 
 Louis Kerneguy." 
 
 All this while, Wilarake was busied undoing the clasps of his 
 square-caped cloak. 
 
 "Off— off, ye lendings," he said, "borrowings I should more 
 properly call you — 
 
 ' Via the curtain which shadow'd Borgia !'" 
 
 So saying, he threw the cloak from him and appeared in cuerpo. 
 in a most cavalier-like doublet, of greasy crimson satin, pinked and 
 slashed with what had been once white tiffany ; breeches of the 
 same ; and nether-stocks, or, as we now call them, stockings, 
 darned in many places, and which, hke those of Poins, had been 
 once peach-coloured. A pair of pumps, ill calculated for a walk 
 through the dew, and a broad shoulderbelt of tarnished em- 
 broidery, completed his equipment. 
 
 " Come, sir ! " he exclaimed ; " make haste, off with your slough 
 — Here I stand tight and true— as loyal a lad as ever stuck rapier 
 through a roundhead. — Come, sir, to your tools ! " he continued ; 
 "we may have half-a-dozen thrusts before they come yet, and 
 shame them for their tardiness.— Pshaw !" he exclaimed, in a most 
 disappointed tone, when the Doctor, unfolding his cloak, showed 
 his clerical dress ; « Tush ! it's but the parson after all ! " 
 
WOODSTOCK. 331 
 
 WildraJ<e's respect for the Church, however, and his desire to 
 remove one who might possibly interrupt a scene to which he 
 looked forward with peculiar satisfaction, induced him presently 
 to assume another tone. 
 
 " I beg pardon," he said, " my dear Doctor — I kiss the hem of 
 your cassock — I do, by the thundering Jove — I beg your pardon 
 again. — But I am happy I have met with you — They are raving 
 for your presence at the Lodge — to marry, or christen, or bury, or 
 confess, or something very urgent. — For Heaven's sake, make 
 haste ! " 
 
 " At the Lodge ? " said the Doctor ; " why, I left the Lodge this 
 instant — I was there later, I am sure, than you could be, who came 
 the Woodstock road." 
 
 " Well," replied Wildrake, " it is at Woodstock they want you. — 
 Rat it, did .1 say the Lodge? — No, no — ^Woodstock — Mine host 
 cannot be hanged — his daughter married — his bastard christened, 
 or his wife buried — without the assistance of a real clergyman — 
 Your Holdenoughs won't do for them. — He's a true man, mine 
 host ; so, as you value your function, make haste." 
 
 " You will pardon me. Master Wildrake," said the Doctor — " I 
 wait for Master Louis Kerneguy." 
 
 " The devil you do ! " exclaimed Wildrake. " Why, I always 
 knew the Scots could do nothing without their minister ; but d — n 
 it, I never thought they put them to this use neither. But I have 
 known jolly customers in orders, who understood to handle the 
 sword as well as their prayerbook. You know the purpose of our 
 meeting. Doctor. Do you come only as a ghostly comforter — or 
 as a surgeon, perhaps — or do you ever take bilboa in hand.' — 
 Sa, sa!" 
 Here he made a fencing demonstration with his sheathed rapier. 
 " I have done so, sir, on necessary occasion," said Doctor Roche- 
 cliffe. 
 
 " Good sir, let this stand for a necessary one," said Wildrake. 
 "You know my devotion for the Church. If a divine of your skill 
 would do me the honour to exchange but three passes with me, I 
 should think myself happy for ever." 
 
 "Sir," said Rochechffe, smiling, "were there no other objection 
 to what you propose, I have not the means — I have no weapon." 
 
 " What ? you want the de quoi ? that is unlucky indeed. But 
 you have a stout cane in your hand — what hinders our trying a pass 
 (my rapier being sheathed of course) until our principals come up ? 
 My pumps are full of this frost-dew ; and I shall be a toe or two 
 out of pocket, if I am to stand still all the time they are stretching 
 themselves ; for, I fancy. Doctor, you are of my opinion, that the 
 matter will not be a fight of cock-sparrows." 
 
332 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " My business here is to make it, if possible, be no figlit at all," 
 said the divine. 
 
 " Now, rat me. Doctor, but that is too spiteful," said Wildrake ; 
 " and were it not for my respect for the Church, I could turn Pres- 
 byterian, to be revenged." 
 
 " Stand back a little, if you please, sir," said the Doctor ; " do 
 not press forward in that direction." — For Wildrake, in the agitation 
 of his movements, induced by his disappointment, approached the 
 spot where Alice remained still concealed. 
 
 "And wherefore not, I pray you, Doctor ? " said the cavalier. 
 
 But on advancing a step, he suddenly stopped short, and mut- 
 tered to himself, with a round oath of astonishment, " A petticoat 
 in the coppice, by all that is reverend, and at this hour in the 
 morning — Whew — ew — ew I" — He gave vent to his surprise in a 
 long low interjectional whistle ; then turning to the Doctor, with 
 his finger on the side of his nose, " You're sly. Doctor, d — d sly ! 
 But why not give me a hint of your — your commodity there — your 
 contraband goods ? Gad, sir, I am not a man to expose the eccen- 
 tricities of the Church." 
 
 '' Sir," said Doctor Rochecliffe, " you are impertinent ; and if 
 time served, and it were worth my while, I would chastise you." 
 
 And the Doctor, who had served long enough in the wars to have 
 added some of the qualities of a captain of horse to those of a 
 divine, actually raised his cane, to the infinite delight of the rake, 
 whose respect for the Church was by no means able to subdue his 
 love of mischief. 
 
 " Nay, Doctor," said he, "if you wield your weapon backsword 
 fashion, in that way, and raise it as high as your head, I shall be 
 through you in a twinkling." So saying he made a pass with his 
 sheathed rapier, not precisely at the Doctor's person, but in that 
 direction ; when Rochecliffe, changing the direction of his cane 
 from the broadsword guard to that of the rapier, made the cavalier's 
 sword spring ten yards out of his-hand, with all the dexterity of my 
 friend Francalanza. At this moment both the principal parties 
 appeared on the field. 
 
 Everard exclaimed angrily to Wildrake, " Is this your friendship? 
 In Heaven's name, what make you in that fool's jacket, and playing 
 the pranks of a jack-pudding ? " while his worthy second, somewhat 
 crestfallen, held down his head, like a boy caught in roguery, and 
 went to pick up his weapon, stretching his head, as he passed, into 
 the coppice, to obtain another glimpse, if possible, of the concealed 
 object of his curiosity. 
 
 Charles, in the meantime, still more surprised at what he beheld, 
 called out on his part— "What! Doctor Rochecliffe become literally 
 one of the church militant, and tilting with my friend Cavalier 
 
WOODSTOCK, 333 
 
 Wildrake ? May I use the freedom to ask him to withdraw, as 
 Colonel Everard and I have some private business to settle ? " 
 
 It was Doctor Rochecliffe's cue, on this important occasion, to 
 have armed himself with the authority of his sacred office, and used 
 a tone of interference which might have overawed even a monarch, 
 and made him feel that his monitor spoke by a warrant higher than 
 his own. But the indiscreet latitude he had just given to his own 
 passion, and the levity in which he had been detected, were very 
 unfavourable to his assuming that superiority, to which so uncon- 
 trollable a spirit as that of Charles, wilful as a prince, and capricious 
 as a wit, was at all likely to submit. The Doctor did, however, 
 endeavour to rally his dignity, and replied, with the gravest, and at 
 the same time the most respectful, tone he could assume, that he 
 also had business of the most urgent nature, which prevented him 
 from complying with Master Kerneguy's wishes, and leaving that 
 spot. 
 
 " Excuse this untimely interruption," said Charles, taking off his 
 hat, and bowing to Colonel Everard, " which I will immediately put 
 an end to." 
 
 Everard gravely returned his salute, and was silent. 
 
 " Are you mad. Doctor Rochecliffe ? " said Charles — " or are you 
 deaf .'—or have you forgotten your mother-tongue ? I desired you 
 to leave this place." 
 
 " I am not mad," said the divine, rousing up his resolution, and 
 regaining the natural firmness of his voice — " I would prevent 
 others from being so t I am not deaf — I would pray others to hear 
 the voice of reason and religion ; I have not forgotten my mother- 
 tongue — but I have come hither to speak the language of the 
 Master of kings and princes." 
 
 " To fence with broomsticks, I should rather suppose," said the 
 King — " Come, Doctor Rochecliffe, this sudden fit of assumed im- 
 portance befits you as little as your late frolic. You are not, I 
 apprehend, either a Catholic priest or a Scotch Mass-John to claim 
 devoted obedience from your hearers, but a Church of Englandman, 
 subject to the rules of that Communion — and to its Head." In 
 speaking the last words, the King sunk his voice to a low and 
 impressive whisper. Everard observing this drew back, the natural 
 generosity of his temper directing him to avoid overhearing private 
 discourse, in which the safety of the speakers might be deeply con- 
 cerned. They continued, however, to observe great caution in their 
 forms of expression. 
 
 " Master Kerneguy," said the clergyman, " it is not I who assume 
 authority or control over your wishes — God forbid ; I do but tell . 
 you what reason. Scripture, religion, and morality, alike prescribe 
 for your rule of conduct." 
 
334 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " And I, Doctor," said the King, smiling, and pointing to the 
 unlucky cane, " will take your example rather than your precept. 
 If a reverend clergyman will himself fight a bout at single-stick, 
 what right can he have to interfere in gentlemen's quarrels?— 
 Come, sir, remove yourself, and do not let your present obstinacy 
 cancel former obligations." 
 
 " Bethink yourself," said the divine, — " I can say one word which 
 will prevent all this." 
 
 "Do it," replied the King, "and in doing so belie the whole 
 tenor and actions of an honourable life — abandon the principles of 
 your Church, and become a perjured traitor and an apostate, to 
 prevent another person from discharging his duty as a gentleman, ! 
 This were indeed killing your friend, to prevent the risk of his 
 running himself into danger. Let the Passive Obedience, which is 
 so often in your rriouth, and no doubt in your head, put your feet 
 for once into motion, and step aside for ten minutes. Within that 
 space your assistance may be needed, either as. body-curer or soulr 
 curer." 
 
 " Nay then," said Doctor Rochecliffe, " I have but one argument 
 left." 
 
 While this conversation was carried on apart, Everard had almost 
 forcibly detained by his own side his follower, Wildrake, whose 
 greater curiosity, and lesser delicacy, would otherwise have thrust 
 him iforward, to get, if possible, into the secret. But when he saw 
 the Doctor turn into the coppice, he whispered eagerly to Eyerard 
 — " A gold Carolus to a commonwealth farthing, the Doctor, has 
 not only come to preach a peace, but has brought the principal 
 conditions along with him ! " 
 
 Everard made no answer ; he had already unsheathed his sword ; 
 and Charles hardly saw Rocheclifife's back fairly turned, than he 
 lost no time in following his example. But, ere they had done 
 more than salute each other, with the usual courteous flourish of 
 their weapons. Doctor Rochecliffe again stood between them, lead- 
 ing in his hand Alice Lee, her garments danTs with dew, and her 
 long hair heavy with moisture, and totally uncurled. Her face was 
 extremely pale, but it was the paleness of desperate resolution, not 
 of fear. There was a dead pause of astonishment — the combatants 
 rested on their swords — and even the forwardness of Wildrake only 
 vented itself in half-suppressed ejaculations, as, "Well done, Doctpr 
 — this beats the * parson among the pease' — No less than your 
 patron's daughter — And Mistress Alice, whom I thought a very 
 snowdrop, turned out a dog-violet after all — a Lindabrides, .by 
 heavens, and altogether one of ourselves ! " 
 
 Excepting these unheeded mutterings, Alice was the first to 
 speak. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 335 
 
 " Master Everard," she said — " Master Kerneguy, you are sur- 
 prised to see ine here — Yet, why should I not tell the reason at 
 once ? Convinced that I am, however guiltlessly, the unhappy 
 cause of your misunderstanding, I am too much interested to pre- 
 vent fatal consequences to pause upon any step which may end it. 
 — Master Kerneguy, have my wishes, my entreaties, my prayers^ 
 have your noble thoughts — the recollections of your own high 
 duties, ho weight" with" you in this matter? Let me entreat you 
 to consult reason, religion, and common sense, and return your 
 weapon." 
 
 " I am obedient as an Eastern slave', madam," answered Charles, 
 sheathing his sword ; " but I assure you, the matter about which 
 you distress yourself is a mere trifle, which will be much better 
 settled betwixt Colonel Everard and myself in five minutes, than 
 with the assistance of the whole Convocation of the Church, with a 
 female parliament to assist their reverend deliberations.— Mr. 
 Everard, will you oblige me by walking a little farther ? — We must 
 change ground, it seems. 
 
 " I am ready to attend you, sir," said Everard, who had sheathed 
 his sword so soon as his antagonist did so. 
 
 " I have tben no interest with you, sir," said Alice, continuing to 
 address the King—" Do you not fear I should use the secret in my 
 p6wer to prevent this affair going to extremity? Think you this 
 
 gentleman, who raises his hand against you, if he knew " 
 
 " If he knew that I were Lord Wilmot, madam, you would say ? 
 — Accident has given him proof to that effect, with which he is 
 already satisfied, and I think you would find it difficult to induce 
 him to embrace a different opinion." 
 
 Alice paused, and looked on the King with great indignation, the 
 following words dropping from her mouth by intervals, as if they 
 burst forth one by one in spite of feelings that would have restrained 
 them-^" Cold — selfish — ungrateful— unkind !— Woe ' to the land 
 which "^ — —Here she paused with marked elnphasis, then added — 
 "which shall number thee, or such as thee, among her nobles and 
 rulers I" ■ 
 
 " Nay,"fair Alice," said Charles, whose good-nature could not but 
 feel the severity of this "reproach, though toO slightly to fiiake all 
 the desired impression, " You are too unjust to me — too partial to a 
 happier man. Do not call me unkind ; I am but here to answer 
 Mr. Everard's summons. ! could neither decline attending, tior 
 withdraw now I am here, without loss of honour j and my loss of 
 honour would be a disgrace which must extend to many — I catinot 
 fly from Mr. Everard — it would be too shameful. If he abides' by 
 his message, it must be decided as such affairs usually za-i. If he 
 retreats or yields it up, I will, for your sake, wave punctilio. I will 
 
336 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 not even ask an apology for the trouble it has afforded me, but let 
 all pass as if it were the consequence of some unhappy inistake, the 
 grounds of which shall remain on my part unenquired into. — This 
 I will do for your sake, and it is much for a man of honour to con- 
 descend so far — You know that the condescension from me in 
 particular is great indeed. Then do not call me ungenerous, or 
 ungrateful, or unkind, since I am ready to do all, which, as a man, 
 I can do, and more perhaps than as a man of honour I ought 
 to do." 
 
 " Do you hear this, Markham Everard," exclaimed Alice — ^" do 
 you hear this ? — The dreadful option is left entirely at your disposal. 
 You were wont to be temperate in passion, religious, forgiving — 
 will you, for a mere punctilio, drive on this private and unchristian 
 broil to a murderous extremity ? Believe me, if you now, contrary 
 to all the better principles of your life, give the reins to your passions, 
 the consequences may be such as you will rue for your lifetime, and 
 even, if Heaven have not mercy, rue after your life is finished." 
 
 Markham Everard remained for a moment gloomily silent, with 
 his eyes fixed on the ground. At length he looked up, and answered 
 her — " Alice, you are a soldier's daughter — a soldier's sister. All 
 your relations, even including one whom you then entertained some 
 regard for, have been made soldiers by these unhappy discords. 
 Yet you have seen them take the field — in some instances on con- 
 trary sides, to do their duty where their principles called them, 
 without manifesting this extreme degree of interest. Answer me — 
 and your answer shall decide my conduct — Is this youth, so short 
 while known, already of more value to you than those dear con- 
 nexions, father, brother, and kinsman, whose departure to battle 
 you saw with comparative indifference ? — Say this, and it shall be 
 enough — I leave the ground, never to see you or this country 
 again." 
 
 " Stay, Markham, stay ; and believe me when I say, that if I 
 answer your question in the affirmative, it is because Master 
 Kemeguy's safety comprehends more, much more, than that of any 
 of those you have mentioned." 
 
 " Indeed ! I did not know a coronet had been so superior in value 
 to the crest of a private gentleman," said Everard; "yet I have 
 heard that many women think so." 
 
 " You apprehend me amiss," said Alice, perplexed between the 
 difficulty of so expressing herself as to prevent immediate mischief, 
 and at the same time anxious to combat the jealousy and disarm 
 the resentment which she saw arising in the bosom -of her lover. 
 But she found no words fine enough to draw the distinction, 
 without leading to a discovery of the King's actual character, and 
 perhaps, in consequence^ to his destruction. "Markham," she 
 
WOODSTOCK. 337 
 
 said, " have compassion on me. Press me not at this moment — 
 believe me, the honour and' happiness of my father, of my brother, 
 and of my whole family, are interested in Master Kerneguy's 
 safety— are inextricably concerned in this matter resting where it 
 now does." 
 
 " Oh, ay— I doubt not," said Everard ; "the House of Lee ever 
 looked up to nobility, and valued in their connexions the fantastic 
 loyalty of a courtier beyond the sterhng and honest patriotism of a 
 plain country gentleman. For them, the thing is in course. But 
 on your part, you, Alice — O ! on your part, whom I have loved so 
 dearly— who has suffered me to think that my affection was not un- 
 repaid — Can the attractions of an empty title, the idle court com- 
 pliments of a mere man of quality, during only a few hours, lead 
 you to prefer a libertine lord to such a heart as mine ? " 
 
 " No, no— believe me, no," said Alice, in the extremity of 
 distress. 
 
 " Put your answer, which seems so painful, in one word, and say 
 for whose safety it is you are thus deeplv interested ? " 
 
 " For both— for both," said Alice. 
 
 " That answer will not serve, Alice," answered Everard — " here 
 is no room for equality. I must and will know to what I have to 
 trust. I understand not the paltering, which makes a maiden un- 
 willing to decide betwixt two suitors ; nor would I willingly impute 
 to you the vanity that cannot remain contented with one lover at 
 once." 
 
 The vehemence of Everard's displeasure, when he supposed his 
 own long and sincere devotion lightly forgotten, amid the addresses 
 of a profligate courtier, awakened the spirit of Alice Lee, who, as 
 we elsewhere said, had a portion in her temper of the lion-humour 
 that was characteristic of her family. 
 
 " If I am thus misinterpreted," she said — " if I am not judged 
 worthy of the least confidence or candid construction, hear my 
 declaration, and my assurance, that, strange as my words may 
 seem, they are, when truly interpreted, such as do you no wrong. — 
 I tell you — I tell all present — and I tell this gentleman himself, who 
 well knows the sense in which I speak, that his life and safety are, 
 or ought to be, of more value to me than those of any other man in 
 the kingdom — nay, in the world, be that other who he will." 
 
 These words she spoke in a tone so firm and decided, as admitted 
 no farther discussion. Charles bowed low and with gravity, but 
 remained silent. Everard, his features agitated by the emotions 
 which his pride barely enabled him to suppress, advanced to his 
 antagonist, and said, in a tone which he vainly endeavoured to 
 make a firm one, " Sir, you heard the lady's declaration, with such 
 feelings, doubtless of gratitude, as the case eminently demands.' 
 
338 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 As her poor kinsman, and an unworthy suitor, sir, I presume to 
 yield my interest in her to you ; and, as I will never be the means 
 of giving her pain, I trust you will not think I act unworthily in re- 
 tracting the letter which gave you the trouble of attending this 
 place at this hour. — Alice," he said, turning his head towards her, 
 " Farewell, Alice, at once, and for ever ! " 
 
 The poor young lady, whose adventitious spirit had almost 
 deserted her, attempted to repeat the word farewell, but, failing in 
 the attempt, only accomplished a broken and imperfect sound, and 
 would have sunk to. the earth, but for Doctor Rochecliffe, who 
 caught her as she fell. Roger Wildrake, also, who had twice or 
 thrice put to his eyes what remained of a kerchief, interested by 
 the lady's evident distress, though unable to comprehend the 
 mysterious cause, hastened to assist the divine in supporting so 
 fair a burden. 
 
 Meanwhile, the disguised Prince had beheld the whole in silence, 
 but with an agitation to which he was unwonted, and which his 
 swarthy features, and still more his motions, began to betray. His 
 posture was at first absolutely stationary, with his arms folded on 
 his bosom, as one who waits to be guided by the current of events ; 
 presently after, he shifted his position, advanced and retired his 
 foot, clenched and opened his hand, and otherwise showed symp- 
 toms that he was strongly agitated by contending feelings, — was on 
 the point, too, of forming some sudden resolution, and yet still in 
 uncertainty what course he should pursue. 
 
 But when he saw Markham Everard, after one look of unspeak- 
 able anguish towards Alice, turning his back to depart, he broke 
 out into his familiar ejaculation, " Oddsfish ! this must not be." 
 In three strides he overtook the slowly retiring Everard, tapped 
 him smartly on the shoulder, and, as he turned round, said, with an 
 air of command, which he well knew how to adopt at pleasure, 
 " One word with you, sir." 
 
 " At your pleasure, sir," replied Everard, and naturally conjectur- 
 ing the purpose of his antagonist to be hostile, took hold of his 
 rapier with the left hand, and laid the right on the hilt, not dis- 
 pleased at the supposed call ; for anger is at least as much akin to 
 disappointment as pity is said to be to love. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " answered the King " that cannot be «i?a/— Colonel 
 Everard, I am Charles Stewart ! ' 
 
 Everard recoiled in the greatest surprise, and next exclaimed, 
 " Impossible— it cannot be ! — The King of Scots has escaped from 
 Bristol. — My Lord Wilmot, your talents for intrigue are well 
 known — but this will not pass upon me." 
 
 " The King of Scots, Master Everard," replied Charles—" since 
 you are so pleased to limit his sovereignty— at any rate, the Eldest 
 
WOODSTOCK. 339 
 
 Son of the late Sovereign of Britain, — is now before you ; therefore 
 it is impossible he could have escaped from Bristol. Doctor 
 Rochecliffe shall be my voucher, and will tell you, moreover, that 
 Wilmot is of a fair complexion, and light hair — mine, you may see, 
 is swart as a raven." 
 
 Rocheclifife, seeing what was passing, abandoned Alice to the 
 care of Wildrake, whose extreme delicacy in the attempts he made 
 to bring her back to life, formed an amiable contrast to his usual 
 wildness, and occupied him so much, that he remained for the 
 moment ignorant of the disclosure in which he would have been 
 so much interested. As for Doctor Rochecliffe, he came forward, 
 wringing his hands in all the demonstration of extreme anxiety, and 
 with the usual exclamations attending such a state. 
 
 " Peace, Doctor Rochecliffe ! " said the King, with such complete 
 self-possession as indeed became a prince — " We are in the hands, 
 I am satisfied, of a man of honour. Master Everard must be 
 pleased in finding only a fugitive prince in the person in whom he 
 thought he had discovered a successful rival. He cannot but be 
 aware of the feelings which prevented me from taking advantage of 
 the cover which this young lady's devoted loyalty afforded me, at 
 the risk of her own happiness. .He is the party who is to profit by 
 my candour ; and certainly I have a right to expect that my condi- 
 tion, already indifferent enough, shall not be rendered worse by his 
 becoming privy to it, under such circumstances. At any rate, the 
 avowal is made j and it is for Colonel Everard to consider how he 
 is to conduct himself." 
 
 " Oh, your Majesty ! — my Liege ! — ^my King ! — my royal Prince !" 
 exclaimed Wildrake, who, at length discovering what was passing, 
 had crawled on his knees, and seizing the King's hand, was kissing 
 it, more like a child mumbling gingerbread, or like a lover devour- 
 ing the yielded hand of his mistress, than in the manner in which 
 such salutations pass at court — " If my dear friend Mark Everard 
 should prove a dog on this occasion, rely on me I will cut his throat 
 on the spot, were I to do the same for myself the moment after- 
 wards ! " 
 
 " Hush, hush, my good friend and loyal subject," said the King, 
 " and compose yourself ; for though I am obliged to put on the 
 Prince for a moment, we have not privacy or safety to receive our 
 subjects in King Cambyses' vein." 
 
 Everard, who had stood for a time utterly confounded, awoke at 
 length like a man from a dream. 
 
 " Sire," he said, bowing low, and with profound deference, " if I 
 do not offer you the homage of a subject with knee and sword, it is 
 because God, by whom kings reign, has denied you for the present 
 the power of ascending your throne without rekindling civil war, 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 For your safety being .endangered by me, let not such an imagina- 
 tion for an instant cross your mind. Had I not respected your 
 person — were I not bound to you for the candour with which your 
 noble avowal has prevented the misery of my future life, your 
 misfortunes would have rendered your person as sacred, so far as I 
 can protect it, as it could be esteemed by tlie most devoted royalist 
 in the kingdom. If your plans are soundly considered, and 
 securely laid, think that all which is now passed is but a dream. 
 If they are in such a state that I can aid them, saving my duty to 
 the Commonwealth, which will permit me to be privy to no 
 schemes of actual violence, your Majesty may command my 
 services." 
 
 " It may be I may be troublesome to you, sir," said the King ; 
 " for my fortunes are not such as ^.to permit me to reject even the 
 most limited offers of assistance ; but if I can, I will dispense with 
 applying to you — I would not wilUngly put any man's compassion 
 at war with his sense of duty on my account. — Doctor, I think 
 there will be no farther tilting to-day, either with sword or cane ; 
 so we may as well return to the Lodge, and leave these " — looking 
 at Alice and Everard — " who may have more to say in explana- 
 tion." 
 
 " No — no ! " exclaimed Alice, who was now perfectly come to 
 herself, and partly by her own obser\'ation, and partly from the 
 report of Dr. Rochecliffe, comprehended all that had taken place — 
 " My cousin Everard and I have nothing to explain ; he will 
 forgive me for having riddled with him when I dared not speak 
 plainly; and I forgive him for having read my riddle wrong. 
 But my father has my promise — ^we must not correspond or con- 
 verse for the present — I return instantly to the Lodge and he to 
 Woodstock, unless you, sire," bowing to the King, " command his 
 duty otherwise. — Instant to the town, cousin Markham ; and if 
 danger should approach, give us warning." 
 
 Everard would have delayed her departure, would have excused 
 himself for his unjust suspicion, would have said a thousand things ; 
 but she would not hsten to him, saying, for all other answer, — 
 " Farewell, Markham, till God send better days ! " 
 
 "She is an angel of truth and beauty," said Roger Wildrake j 
 " and I, like a blasphemous heretic, called her a Lindabrides ! *— 
 But has your Majesty— craving your pardon — no commands for 
 poor Hodge Wildrake, who wiU blow out his own or any other 
 man's brains in England, to do your Grace a pleasure ? " 
 
 " We entreat our good friend Wildrake to do nothing hastily," 
 said Charles, smiling ; "such brains as his are rare, and should 
 not be rashly dispersed, as the like may not be easily collected. 
 We i-ecommend him to be silent and prudent— to tilt no more with 
 
WOODSTOCK. 341 
 
 loyal clergymen of the Church of England, and to get himself a 
 new jacket with all convenient speed, to which we beg to contribute 
 our royal aid. When fit time comes, we hope to find other service 
 for him." 
 
 As he spoke, he slid ten pieces into the hand of poor Wildrake, 
 who, confounded with the excess of his loyal gratitude, blubbered 
 like a child, and would have followed the King, had not Doctor 
 Rochecliffe, in few words, but peremptory, insisted that he should 
 return with his patron, promising him he should certainly be 
 employed in assisting the King's escape, could an opportunity be 
 found of using his services. 
 
 " Be so generous, reverend sir, and you bind me to you for 
 ever," said the cavalier ; " and I conjure you not to keep malice 
 against me on account of the foolery you wot of." 
 
 " I have no occasion. Captain Wildrake," said the Doctor, " for 
 I think I had the best of it." 
 
 " Well, then. Doctor, I forgive you on my part ; and I pray you, 
 for Christian charity, let me have a finger in this good service ; 
 for as I live in hope of it, rely that I shall die of disappointment." 
 
 While the doctor and soldier thus spoke together, Charles took 
 leave of Everard, (who remained uncovered while he spoke to 
 him,) with his usual grace — "I need not"' bid you no longer be 
 jealous of me," said the King ; " for I presume you will scarce 
 think of a match betwixt Alice and me, which would be too losing 
 a one on her side. For other thoughts, the wildest libertine could 
 not enterta:in them towards so high-minded a creature ; and 
 believe me, that my sense of her merit did not need this last dis- 
 tinguished proof of her truth and loyalty. I saw enough of her 
 from her answers to some idle sallies of gallantry, to know with 
 what a lofty character she is endowed, Mr. Everard, her hap- 
 piness I see depends on you, and I trust you will be the careful 
 , guardian of it. If we can take any obstacle out of the way of 
 your joint happiness, be assured we will use our influence. — 
 Farewell, sir ; if we cannot be better friends, do not at least let 
 us entertain harder or worse thoughts of each other than we 
 have now." 
 
 There was something in the manner of Charles that was ex- 
 tremely affecting; something, too, in his condition as a fugitive 
 in the kingdom which was his own by inheritance, that made a 
 direct appeal to Everard's bosom— though in contradiction to the 
 dictates of that policy which he judged it his duty to pursue in 
 the distracted circumstances of the country. He remained, as 
 we have said, uncovered ; and in his manner testified the highest 
 expression of reverence, up to the point when such might seem 
 a symbol of allegiance. He bowed so low as almost to approach 
 
342 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 his lips to the hand of Charles— but he did not Idss it.—" I 
 would rescue your person, sir," he said, " with the purchase of my 
 
 own life. More," He stopped short, and the King took up his 
 
 sentence where it broke off—" More you cannot do," said Charles, 
 " to maintain an honourable consistency— but what you have said 
 is enough. You cannot render homage to my proffered hand, as 
 that of a sovereign, but you will not prevent my taking yours as a 
 friend, if you allow me to call myself so — I am sure, as a well- 
 wisher at least." 
 
 The generous soul of Everard was touched — He took the King's 
 hand, and pressed it to his lips. 
 
 " Oh ! " he said, " were better times to come " 
 
 " Bind yourself to nothing, dear Everard," said the good-natured 
 Prince, partaking his emotion—" We reason ill while our feelings 
 are moved. I will recruit no man to his loss, nor will I have my 
 fallen fortunes involve those of others, because they have humanity 
 enough to pity my present condition. If better times come, why 
 we will meet again, and I hope to our mutual satisfaction. If not, 
 as your future father-in-law would say," (a benevolent smile came 
 over his face, and accorded not unmeetly with his glistening eyes,) 
 — " If not, this parting was well made." 
 
 Everard turned away with a deep bow, almost choking under 
 contending feelings ; the uppermost of which was a sense of the 
 generosity with which Charles, at his own imminent risk, had 
 cleared away the darkness that seemed about to overwhelm his 
 prospects of happiness for life — mixed with a deep sense of the 
 perils by which he was environed. He returned to the little town, 
 followed by his attendant Wildrake, who turned back so often, with 
 weeping eyes, and hands clasped and uplifted as supplicating 
 Heaven, that Everard was obliged to remind him that his gestures 
 might be observed by some one, and occasion suspicion. 
 
 The generous conduct of the King during the closing part of 
 this remarkable scene, had not escaped Alice's notice ; and, erasing 
 at once from her mind all resentment of Charles's former conduct, 
 and all the suspicions they had deservedly excited, awakened in 
 her bosom a sense of the natural goodness of his disposition, which 
 permitted her to unite regard for his person, with that reverence for 
 his high office in which she had been educated as a portion of her 
 creed. She felt convinced, and delighted with the conviction, that 
 his virtues were his own, his libertinism the fault of education, or 
 rather want of education, and the corrupting advice of sycophants 
 and flatterers. She could not know, or perhaps did not in that 
 moment consider, that in a soil where no care is taken to eradicate 
 tares, they will outgrow and smother the wholesome seed, even if 
 the last is more natural to the soil. For, as Doctor Rochecliffe 
 
WOODSTOCK. 313 
 
 informed her afterwards for her edifieation — promising, as was his 
 custom, to explain the precise words on some futme occasion if she 
 would put him in mind — Virtus rectorem dticemqtie desideratj 
 Vitia sine magistro discuntur.* 
 
 There was no room for such reflections at present. Conscious 
 of mutual sincerity, by a sort of intellectual communication, through 
 which individuals are led to understand each other better, perhaps, 
 in delicate circumstances, than by words, reserve and simulation 
 appeared to be now banished from the intercourse between the 
 King and Alice. With manly frankness, and, at the same time, 
 with princely condescension, he requested her, exhausted as she 
 was, to accept of his arm on the way homeward, instead of that of 
 Doctor Rocheclifife ; and Alice accepted of his support with modest 
 humility, but without a shadow of mistrust or fear. It seemed as if 
 the last half hour had satisfied them perfectly with the character of 
 each other, and that each had full conviction of the purity and 
 sincerity of the other's intentions. 
 
 Doctor Rocheclifife, in the meantime, had fallen some four or five 
 paces behind ; for, less light and active than Alice, (who had, 
 besides, the assistance of the King's support,) he was unable, with- 
 out effort and difficulty, to keep up with the pace of Charles, who 
 . then was, as we have elsewhere noticed, one of the best walkers in 
 England, and was sometimes apt to forget (as great men will) that 
 others were inferior to him in activity. 
 
 " Dear Alice," said the King, but as if the epithet were entirely 
 fraternal, " I like your Everard much — I would to God he were of 
 our determination — But since that cannot be, I am sure he will 
 prove a generous enemy." 
 
 "May it please you, sire," said Alice, modestly, but with some 
 firmness, " my cousin will never be your Majesty's personal enemy 
 — and he is one of the few on whose slightest word yau may rely 
 more than on the oath of those who profess more strongly and 
 formally. He is utterly incapable of abusing your Majesty's most 
 generous and voluntary confidence." 
 
 " On my honour, I believe so, Alice," replied the King : " But, 
 oddsfish ! my girl, let Majesty sleep for the present — it concerns my 
 safety, as I told your brother lately — Call me sir, then, which 
 belongs alike to king, peer, knight, and gentleman — or rather let 
 me be wild Louis Kerneguy again." 
 
 Alice looked down, and shook her head. " That cannot be, 
 please your Majesty." 
 
 " What ! Louis was a saucy companion— a naughty presuming 
 boy — and you cannot abide him ? — Well, perhaps you are right- 
 But we will wait for Doctor Rochecliffe"— he said, desirous, witli 
 good-natured delicacy, to make Alice aware that he had no purpose 
 
344 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 of engaging her in any discussion which could recall painful ideas. 
 They paused accordingly, and again she felt relieved and grateful. 
 
 "I cannot persuade our fair friend, Mistress Alice, Doctor," said 
 the King, "that she must, in prudence, forbear using titles of 
 respect to me, while there are such very slender means of 
 sustaining them." 
 
 " It is a reproach to earth and to fortune," answered the divine, 
 as fast as his recovered breath would permit him, " that your most 
 sacred Majesty's present condition should not accord with the 
 rendering of those honours which are your own by birth, and 
 which, with God's blassing on the efforts of your loyal subjects, I 
 hope to see rendered to you as your hereditary right, by the 
 universal voice of the three kingdoms." 
 
 " True, Doctor," replied the King ; " but, in the meanwhile, can 
 you expound to Mistress Alice Lee two lines of Horace, which I 
 have carried in my thick head several years, till now, they have 
 come pat to my purpose. As my canny subjects of Scotland say. If 
 you keep a thing seven years you are sure to find a use for it at 
 last — TelepAus— ay, so it begins — 
 
 * Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul uierpte, 
 Projidt ampuHas et sesqutpedalia verba.' " 
 
 " I will explain the passage to Mistress Alice," said the Doctor, 
 "when she reminds me of it — or rather," (he added, recollecting 
 that his ordinary dilatory answer on such occasions ought not to 
 be returned when the order for exposition emanated froni his 
 Sovereign,) " I will repeat a poor couplet from my own translation 
 of the poem — 
 
 ' Heroes and kings, in exile forced to roam. 
 
 Leave swelling phrase and seven-leagued words at home.'" 
 
 "A most admirable version. Doctor," said Charles : " I feel all 
 its force, and particularly the beautiful rendering of sesquipedalia 
 verba into seven-leagued boots — words I mean — it reminds me, 
 like half the things I meet with in this world, of the Conies de 
 Commere L'Oye." * 
 
 Thus conversing they reach the Lodge ; and as the King went to 
 his chamber to prepare for the breakfast summons, now impending, 
 the idea crossed his mind, " Wilmot, and Villiers, and Killigrew, 
 would laugh at me, did they hear of a campaign in which'neither 
 man nor woman had been conquered— But, oddsfish ! let thenv 
 laugh as they will, there is something at my heart which tells me, 
 that for once in my life I have acted well," 
 
 That day and the next were s^ent in tranquillity, the King waiting 
 
WOODSTOCK. 345 
 
 impatiently for the intelligence, which was to announce to him that 
 a vessel was prepared somewhere on the coast. None such was 
 yet in readiness ; but he learned that the indefatigable Albert Lee 
 was, at great personal risk, traversing the seacoast from town to 
 village, and endeavouring to find means of embarkation among the 
 friends of the royal cause, and the correspondents of Doctor 
 Rochecliffe. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch ! 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, 
 
 It is time we should give some account of the other actors in 
 our drama, the interest due to the principal personages having for 
 some time engrossed our attention exclusively. 
 
 We are, therefore, to inform the reader, that the lingering long- 
 ings of the Commissioners, who had been driven forth of their pro- 
 posed paradise of Woodstock, not by a cherub indeed, but, as they 
 thought, by spirits of another sort, still detained them in the 
 vicinity. They had, indeed, left the little borough under pretence 
 of indifferent accommodation. The more palpable reasons were, 
 that they entertained some resentment against Everard, as the 
 means of their disappointment, and had no mind to reside where 
 their proceedings could be overlooked by him, although they took 
 leave in terms of the utmost respect. They went, however, no 
 farther than Oxford, and remained there, as ravens, who are accus- 
 tomed to witness the chase, sit upon a tree or crag, at a little dis- 
 tance, and watch the disembowelling of the deer, expecting the 
 relics which fall to their share. Meantime, the University and 
 City, but especially the former, supplied them with some means of 
 employing their various faculties to advantage, until the expected 
 moment, when, as they hoped, they should either be summoned to 
 Windsor, or Woodstock should once more be abandoned to their 
 discretion. 
 
 Bletson, to pass the time, vexed the souls of such learned and 
 pious divines and scholars, as he could intrude his hateful presence 
 upon, by sophistry, atheistical discourse, and challenges to them to 
 impugn the most scandalous theses. Desborough, one of the most 
 brutally ignorant men of the period, got himself nominated the 
 head of a college, and lost no time in cutting down trees, and 
 plundering plate. As for Harrison, he preached in full uniform in 
 Saint Mary's Church, wearing his buff-coat, boots, and spurs, as if 
 he were about to take the field for the fight at Armageddon. And 
 it was hard to sa,y, whether that seat of Learning, Religion, and 
 
346 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Loyalty, as it is called by Clarendon, was more vexed by the rapine 
 of Desborough, the cold scepticism of Bletson, or the frantic enthu- 
 siasm of the Fifth-Monarchy champion. 
 
 Ever and anon, soldiers, under pretence of relieving guard, or 
 otherwise, went and came betwixt Woodstock and Oxford, and 
 maintained, it may be supposed, a correspondence with Trusty 
 Tomkins, who, though he chiefly resided in the town of Wood- 
 stock, visited the Lodge occasionally, and to whom, therefore, 
 they doubtless trusted for information concerning the proceedings 
 there. 
 
 Indeed, this man Tomkins seemed by some secret means to have 
 gained the confidence in part, if not in whole, of almost every one 
 connected with these intrigues. All closeted him, all conversed 
 with him in private ; those who had the means propitiated him 
 with gifts, those who had not were liberal of promises. When he 
 chanced to appear at Woodstock, which always seemed as it were ' 
 by accident — if he passed through the hall, the knight was sure to 
 ask him to take the foils, and was equally certain to be, after less 
 or more resistance, victorious in the encounter ; so, in considera- 
 tion of so many triumphs, the good Sir Henry almost forgave him 
 the sins of rebellion and puritanism. Then, if his slow and formal 
 step was heard in the passages approaching the gallery. Doctor 
 Rochecliffe, though he never introduced him to his peculiar boudoir, 
 was sure to meet Master Tomkins in some neutral apartment, and 
 to engage him in long conversations, which apparently had great 
 interest for both. 
 
 Neither was the Independent's reception below stairs less gra- 
 cious than above. Jocdine failed not to welcome him with the 
 most cordial frankness ; the pasty and the flagon were put in im- 
 mediate requisition, and good cheer was the general word. The 
 means for this, it may be observed, had grown more plenty at 
 Woodstock since the arrival of Dr. Rochecliffe, who, in quality of 
 agent for several royalists, had various sums of money at his dis- 
 posal. By these funds it is likely that Trusty Tomkins also derived 
 his own full advantage. 
 
 In his occasional indulgence in what he called a fleshly frailty, 
 (and for which he said he had a privilege,) which was in truth an 
 attachment to strong liquors, and that in no moderate degree, his 
 language, at other times remarkably decorous and reserved, became 
 wild and animated. He sometimes talked with all the unction of, 
 an old debauchee, of former exploits, such as deer-stealing, orchard 
 robbing, drunken gambols, and desperate affrays in which he had 
 been engaged in the earlier part of his Kfe, sung bacchanalian and 
 amorous ditties, dwelt sometimes upon adventures which drove 
 Phoebe Mayflower from the company, and penetrated even the deaf 
 
WOODSTOCK. 347 
 
 ears of Dame Jellicot, so as to make the buttery in which he held 
 his carousals no proper place for the poor old woman. 
 
 In the middle of these wild rants, Tomkins twice or thrice sud- 
 denly ran into religious topics, and spoke mysteriously, but with 
 great animation, and a rich eloquence, on the happy and pre-emi- 
 nent saints, who were saints, as he termed them, indeed — Men who 
 had stormed the inner treasure-house of Heaven, and possessed 
 themselves of its choicest jewels. All other sects he treated with 
 the utmost contempt, as merely quarrelling, as he expressed it, like 
 hogs over a trough, about husks and acorns ; under which deroga- 
 tory terms, he included alike the usual rites and ceremonies of 
 public devotion, the ordinances of the established churches of 
 Christianity, and the observances, nay, the forbearances, enjoined 
 by every class of Christians. Scarcely hearing, and not at all 
 understanding him, Joceline, who seemed his most frequent confi- 
 dant on such occasions, generally led him back into some strain of 
 rude mirth, or old recollection of follies before the Civil Wars, 
 without caring about or endeavouring to analyze the opinion of this 
 saint of an evil fashion, but fully sensible of the protection which 
 his presence afforded at Woodstock, and confident in the honest 
 meaning of so freespoken a fellow, to whom ale and brandy, when 
 better liquor was not to be come by, seemed to be principal objects 
 of life, and who drank a health to the King, or any one else, when- 
 ever required, provided the cup in which he was to perform the 
 libation were but a brimmer. 
 
 These peculiar doctrines, which were entertained by a sect some- 
 times termed the Family of Love, but more commonly Ranters,* 
 had made some progress in times when such variety of religious 
 opinions were prevalent, that men pushed the jarring heresies to 
 the verge of absolute and most impious insanity. Secrecy had 
 been enjoined on these frantic believers in a most plasphemous 
 doctrine, by the fear of consequences, should they come to be 
 generally announced ; and it was the care of Mr. Tomkins to con- 
 ceal the spiritual freedom which he pretended to have acquired, 
 from all whose resentment would have been stirred by his public 
 avowal of it. This was not difficult ; for their profession of 
 faith permitted, nay, required, their occasional conformity with 
 the sectaries or professors of any creed which chanced to be upper- 
 most. 
 
 Tomkins had accordingly the art to pass himself on Dr. Roche- 
 clifife as still a zealous member of the Church of England, though 
 serving under the enemy's colours, as a spy in their camp ; and as 
 he had on several occasions given him true and valuable intelli- 
 gence, this active intriguer was the more easily induced to believe 
 his professions. 
 
348 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Nevertheless, lest this person's occasional presence at the Lodge, 
 which there were perhaps no means to prevent without exciting 
 suspicion, should infer danger to the King's person, Rochecliffe, 
 whatever confidence he otherwise reposed in him, recommended 
 that, if possible, the King should keep always out of his sight, and 
 when accidentally discovered, that he should only appear in the 
 character of Louis Kerneguy. Joseph Tomkins, he said, was, he 
 really believed, Honest Joe ; but Honesty was a horse which might 
 be overburdened, and there was no use in leading our neighbour 
 into temptation. 
 
 It seemed as if Tomkins himself had acquiesced in this limita- 
 tion of confidence exercised towards him, or that he wished to seem 
 blinder than he really was to the presence of this stranger in the 
 family. It occurred to Joceline, who was a very shrewd fellow, 
 that once or twice, when by inevitable accident Tomkins had met 
 Kerneguy, he seemed less interested in the circumstance than he 
 would have expected from the man's disposition, which was natu- 
 rally prying and inquisitive. " He asked no questions about the 
 young stranger," said Joceline. " God avert that he knows or 
 suspects too much ! " But his suspicions were removed, when, in 
 the course of their subsequent conversation, Joseph Tomkins men- 
 tioned the King's escape from Bristol as a thing positively certain, 
 and named both the vessel in which he said he had gone off, and 
 the master who commanded her, seeming so convinced of the 
 truth of the report, that Joceline judged it impossible he could 
 have the slightest suspicion of the reality. 
 
 Yet notwithstanding this persuasion, and the comradeship which 
 had been established between them, the faithful under-keeper re- 
 solved to maintain a strict watch over his gossip Tomkins, and be 
 in readiness to give the alarm should occasion arise. True, he 
 thought, he had reason to believe that his said friend, notwith- 
 standing his drunken and enthusiastic rants, was as trustworthy as 
 he was esteemed by Dr. Rochecliffe ; yet still he was an adven- 
 turer, the outside and lining of whose coat were of different colours, 
 and a high reward, and pardon for past acts of malignancy, might 
 tempt him once more to turn his tippet — For these reasons Joceline 
 kept a.strict, though unostentatious, watch over Trusty Tomkins. 
 
 We have said, that the discreet seneschal was universally well 
 received at Woodstock, whether in the borough or at the Lodge, 
 and that even Joceline Joliffe was anxious to conceal any suspicions 
 which he could not altogether repress, under a great show of cordial 
 hospitality. There were, however, two individuals, who, for very 
 different reasons, nourished personal dislike against the individual 
 so generally acceptable. 
 
 One was Neheniiah Holdenough, who remembered with great 
 
WOODSTOCK. 349 
 
 bitterness of spirit, the Independent's violent intrusion into his 
 pulpit, and who ever spoke of him in private as a lying missionary, 
 into whom Satan had put a spirit of delusion ; and preached, 
 besides, a solemn sermon on the subject of the false prophet, out of 
 whose mouth came frogs. The discourse was highly prized by the 
 mayor and most of the better class, who conceived that their minister 
 had struck a heavy blow at the very root of Independency. On 
 the other hand, those of the private spirit contended, that Joseph 
 Tomkins had made a successful and triumphant rally, in an exhor- 
 tation on the evening of the same day, in which he proved, to the 
 conviction of many handicraftsmen, that the passage in Jeremiah, 
 " The prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their 
 means," was directly applicable to the Presbyterian system oi 
 church government. The clergyman dispatched an account of his 
 adversary's conduct to the Reverend Master Edwards, to be inserted 
 in the next edition of Gangraena, as a pestilent heretic ; and Tom- 
 kins recommended the parson to his master, Desborough, as a good 
 subject on whom to impose a round fine, for vexing the private 
 spirit ; assuring him, at the same time, that though the minister 
 might seem poor, yet if a few troopers were quartered on him till 
 the fine was paid, every rich shopkeeper's wife in the borough would 
 rob the till, rather than go without the mammon of unrighteousness 
 with which to redeem their priest from suiferance ; holding, accord- 
 ing to his expression, with Laban, " You have taken from me my 
 gods, and what have I more?" There was, of course, little cordiality 
 between the polemical disputants, when religious debate took so 
 worldly a turn. 
 
 But Joe Tomkins was much more concerned at the evil opinion 
 which seemed to be entertained against him, by one whose good 
 graces he was greatly more desirous to obtain than those of Nehe- 
 miah Holdenough. This was no other than pretty Mistress Phoebe 
 Mayflower, for whose conversion he had felt a strong vocation, ever 
 since his lecture upon Shakspeare on their first meeting at the 
 Lodge. He seemed desirous, however, to carry on this more serious 
 work in private, and especially to conceal his labours from his 
 friend Joceline Joliffe, lest, perchance, he had been addicted to 
 jealousy. But it was in vain that he plied the faithful damsel, 
 sometimes with verses from the Canticles, sometimes with quota- 
 tions from Green's Arcadia, or pithy passages from Venus and Adonis, 
 and doctrines of a nature yet more abstruse, from the popular work 
 entitled Aristotle's Masterpiece. Unto no wooing of his, sacred 
 or profane, metaphysical or physical, would Phcebe Mayflower 
 seriously incline. 
 
 The maiden loved Joceline Joliffe, on the one hand : and. on the 
 other, if she disliked Joseph Tomkins when she first saw bim, as a 
 
3S0 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 rebellious puritan, she had not been at all reconciled by finding 
 reason to regard him as a hypocritical libertine. She hated him in 
 both capacities — never endured his conversation when she could 
 escape from it — and when obliged to remain, listened to him only 
 because she knew he had been so deeply trusted, that to offend him 
 might endanger the security of the family, in the service of which 
 she had been born and bred up, and to whose interest she was de- 
 voted. For reasons somewhat similar, she did not suffer her dislike 
 of the steward to become manifest before Joceline Joliffe, whose 
 spirit, as a forester and a soldier, might have been likely to bring 
 matters to an arbitrement, in which the cotiteaii de chasse and 
 quarterstaff of her favourite, would have been too unequally matched 
 with the long rapier and pistols which his dangerous rival always 
 carried about his person. But it is difficult to blind jealousy when 
 there is any cause of doubt ; and perhaps the sharp watch main- 
 tained by Joceline on his comrade, was prompted not only by his 
 zeal for the King's safety, but by some vague suspicion that Tomkins 
 was not ill disposed to poach upon his own fair manor. 
 
 Phoebe, in the meanwhile, like a prudent girl, sheltered herself as 
 much as possible by the presence of Goody Jellicot. Then, indeed, 
 it is true the Independent, or whatever he was, used to follow her 
 with his addresses to very little purpose ; for Phoebe seemed as 
 deaf, through wilfulness, as the old matron by natural infirmity. 
 This indifference highly incensed her new lover, and induced him 
 anxiously to watch for a time and place, in which he might plead 
 his suit with an energy that should command attention. Fortune, 
 that malicious goddess, who so often ruins us by granting the very 
 object of our vows, did at length procure him such an opportunity 
 as he had long coveted. 
 
 It was about sunset, or shortly after, when Phoebe, upon whose 
 activity much of the domestic arrangements depended, went as far 
 as Fair Rosamond's spring to obtain water for the evening meal, 
 or rather to gratify the prejudice of the old knight, who believed 
 that celebrated fountain afforded the choicest supplies of the 
 necessary element. Such was the respect in which he was held by 
 his whole family, that to neglect any of his wishes that could be 
 gratified, though with inconvenience to themselves, would, in their 
 estimation, have been almost equal to a breach of religious duty. 
 
 To fill the pitcher had, we know, been of late a troublesome task ; 
 but Joceline's ingenuity had so far rendered it easy, by repairing 
 rudely a part of the ruined front of the ancient fountain, that the 
 water was collected, and trickling along a wooden spout, dropped 
 from a height of about two feet. A damsel was thereby enabled to 
 place her pitcher under the slowly dropping supply, and, without 
 toil to herself, might wait till '^er vessel was filled. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3S1 
 
 Phoebe Mayflower, on the evening we allude to, saw, for the first 
 time, this little improvement ; and, justly considering it as a piece 
 of gallantry of her silvan admirer, designed to save her the trouble 
 of performing her task in a more inconvenient manner, she grate- 
 fully employed the minutes of ease which the contrivance procured 
 her, in reflecting on the good-nature and ingenuity of the obliging 
 engineer, and perhaps in thinking he might have done as wisely to 
 have waited till she came to the fountain, that he might have secured 
 personal thanks for the trouble he had taken. But then she knew 
 he was detained in the buttery with that odious Tomkins, and rather 
 than have seen the Independent along with him, she would have 
 renounced the thought of meeting Joceline. 
 
 As she was thus reflecting, Fortune was malicious enough to send 
 Tomkins to the fountain, and without JoceHne. When she saw his 
 figure darken the path up which he came, an anxious reflection came 
 over the poor maiden's breast, that she was alone, and within the 
 verge of the forest, where in general persons were prohibited to come 
 during the twilight, for disturbing the deer settling to their repose. 
 She encouraged herself, however, and resolved to show no sense of 
 fear, although, as the steward approached, there was something in 
 the man's look and eye no way calculated to allay her apprehensions. 
 
 " The blessings of the evening upon you, my pretty maiden," he 
 said. " I meet you even as the chief servant of Abraham, who was 
 a steward like myself, met Rebecca, the daughter of Bethuel, the 
 son of Milcah, at the well of the city of Nahor, in Mesopotamia. 
 Shall I not, therefore, say to you, set down thy pitcher that I may 
 drink?" 
 
 " The pitcher is at your service, Master Tomkins," she replied, 
 " and you may drink as much as you will ; but you have, I warrant, 
 drank better liquor, and that not long since." 
 
 It was, indeed, obvious that the steward had risen from a revel, 
 for his features were somewhat flushed, though he had stopped far 
 short of intoxication. But Phoebe's alarm at his first appearance 
 was rather increased when she observed how he had been lately 
 employed. 
 
 " I do but use my privilege, my pretty Rebecca ; the earth is 
 given to the saints, and the fulness thereof. They shall occupy 
 aiid enjoy it, both the riches of the mine, and the treasures of the 
 vine ; and they shall rejoice, and their hearts be merry within 
 them. Thou hast yet to learn the privileges of the saints, my 
 Rebecca." 
 
 " My name is Phcebe," said the maiden, in order to sober the 
 enthusiastic rapture which he either felt or affected. 
 
 " Phcebe after the flesh,"he said, "but Rebecca being spiritualized ; 
 for art thou not a wandering and stray sheep ? — and am I not sent 
 
3S:i WOODSTOCK; 
 
 to fetch thee within the fold ?— Wherefore else was it said, Thou 
 shalt find her seated by the well, in the wood which is called after 
 the ancient harlot, Rosamond ?" 
 
 " You have found me sitting here sure enough," said Phoebe ; 
 " but if you wish to keep me company, you must walk to the 
 Lodge with me ; and you shall carry my pitcher for me, if you will 
 be so kind. I will hear all the good things you have to say to me 
 as we go along. But Sir Henry calls for his glass of water regularly 
 before prayers." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Tomkins, " hath the old man of bloody 
 hand and perverse heart sent thee hither to do the work of a 
 bondswoman ? Verily thou shalt return enfranchised ; and for 
 the water thou hast drawn for him, it shall be poured forth, even 
 as David caused to be poured forth the water of the well of 
 Bethlehem." 
 
 So saying, he emptied the water pitcher, in spite of Phoebe's 
 exclamations and entreaties. He then replaced the vessel beneath 
 the little conduit, and continued : — " Know that this shall be a 
 token to thee. The filling of that pitcher shall be like the running 
 of a sand-glass ; and if within the time which shall pass ere it rises 
 to the brim, thou shalt listen to the words which I shall say to 
 thee, then it shall be well with thee, and thy place shall be high 
 among those who, forsaking the instruction which is as milk for 
 babes and sucklings, eat the strong food which nourishes man- 
 hood. But if the pitcher shall overbrim with water ere thy ear 
 shall hear and understand, thou shalt then be given as a prey, and 
 as a bondsmaiden, unto those who shall possess the fat and the fair 
 of the earth." 
 
 "You frighten me. Master Tomkins," said Phosbe, " though I 
 am sure you do not mean to do so. I wonder how you dare speak 
 words so like the good words in the Bible, when you know how you 
 laughed at your own master, and all the rest of them — when you 
 helped to play the hobgoblins at the Lodge." 
 
 "Think'st thou then, thou simple fool, that in putting that 
 deceit upon Harrison and the rest, I exceeded my privileges ? — Nay, 
 verily.— Listen to me, foolish girl. When in former days I lived 
 the most wild, malignant rakehell in Oxfordshire, frequenting 
 wakes and fairs, dancing around Maypoles, and showing my 
 lustihood at footfcall and cudgel-playing— Yea, when I was called, 
 in the language of the uncircumcised, Philip Hazeldine, and was 
 one of the singers in the choir, and one of the ringers in the 
 steeple, and served the priest yonder, by name Rochecliffe, I was 
 not farther from the straight road than when, after long reading, 
 I at length found one Wind guide after another, all burners of 
 bricks in Egypt. I left them one by one, the poor tool Harrison 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3S3 
 
 being the last ; and by my own unassisted strength, I have struggled 
 forward to the broad and blessed light, whereof thou too, Phcebe, 
 shalt be partaker." 
 
 " I thank you, Master Tomkins," said Phcebe, suppressing some 
 fear under an appearance of indifference ; " but I shall have light 
 enough to carry home my pitcher, would you but let me take it ; 
 and that is all the want of light I shall have this evening." 
 
 So saying, she stooped to take the pitcher from the fountain ; 
 but he snatched hold of her by the arm, and prevented her from 
 accomplishing her purpose. Phoebe, however, was the daughter 
 of a bold forester, prompt at thoughts of self-defence ; and though 
 she missed getting hold of the pitcher, she caught up instead a 
 large pebble, which she kept concealed in her right hand. 
 
 " Stand up, foolish maiden, and listen," said the Independent, 
 sternly; "and know, in one word, that sin, for which the spirit of 
 man is punished with the vengeance of Heaven, lieth not in the 
 corporal act, but in the thought of the sinner. Believe, lovely 
 Phcebe, that to the pure all acts are pure, and that sin is in our 
 thought, not in our actions — even as the radiance of the day is 
 dark to a blind man, but seen and enjoyed by him whose eyes 
 receive it. To him who is but a novice in the things of the spirit, 
 much is enjoined, much is prohibited ; and he is fed with milk fit 
 for babes, — for him are ordinances, prohibitions, and commands. 
 But the saint is above these ordinances and restraints. To him, 
 as to the chosen child of the house, is given the pass-key to open 
 all locks which withhold him from the enjoyment of his heart's 
 desire. Into such pleasant paths will I guide thee, lovely Phoebe, 
 as shall unite in joy, in innocent freedom, pleasures, which, to the 
 unprivileged, are sinful and prohibited." 
 
 " I really wish, Master Tomkins, you would let me go home," 
 said Phoebe, not comprehending the nature of his doctrine, but 
 disliking at once his words and his manner. He went on, how- 
 ever, with the accursed and blasphemous doctrines, which, in 
 common with others of the pretended saints, he had adopted, after 
 having long shifted from one sect to another, until he settled in 
 the vile belief, that sin, being of a character exclusively spiritual, 
 only existed in the thoughts, and that the worst actions were 
 permitted to those who had attained to the pitch of believing 
 themselves above ordinance. " Thus, my Phcebe," he continued, 
 endeavouring to draw her towards him, " I can offer thee more 
 than ever was held out to woman since Adam first took his bride 
 by the hand. It shall be for others to stand dry-lipped, doing 
 penance, like papists, by abstinence, when the vessel of pleasure 
 pours forth its delights. Dost thou love money ?— I have it, and 
 can procure more— am at liberty to procure it on every hand, and 
 
 A A 
 
3S4 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 by every means — the earth is mine and its fulness. Do you desire 
 power ? — which of these poor cheated commissioner-fellows' estates 
 dost thou covet, I will work it out for thee ; for I deal with a 
 mightier spirit than any of them. And it is not without warrant 
 that I have aided the malignant Rochecliffe, and the clown Joliffe, 
 to frighten and baffle them in the guise they did. Ask what thou 
 wilt, Phoebe, I can give, or I can procure it for thee — Then enter 
 with me into a life of delight in this world, which shall prove but 
 an anticipation of the joys of Paradise hereafter ! " 
 
 Again the fanatical voluptuary endeavoured to pull the poor girl 
 towards him, while she, alarmed, but not scared out of her presence 
 of mind, endeavoured, by fair entreaty, to prevail on him to release 
 her. But his features, in themselves not marked, had acquired a 
 frightful expression, and he exclaimed, " No, Phoebe — do not think 
 to escape — thou art given to me as a captive — thou hast neglected 
 the hour of grace, and it has glided past — See, the water trickles 
 over thy pitcher, which,was to be a sign between us — Therefore I 
 will urge thee no more with words, of which thou art not worthy, 
 but treat thee as a recusant of offered grace." 
 
 " Master Tomkins," said Phoebe, in an imploring tone, " consi- 
 der, for God's sake, I am a fatherless child — do me no injury, it 
 would be a shame to your strength and your manhood — I cannot 
 understand your fine words — I will think on them till to-morrow." 
 Then, in rising resentment, she added more vehemently — "I will 
 not be used rudely — stand off, or I will do you a mischief" But, 
 as he pressed upon her with a violence, of which the object could 
 not be mistaken, and endeavoured to secure her right hand, she 
 exclaimed, " Take it, then, with a wanion to you ! " — and struck him 
 an almost stunning blow on the face, with the pebble which she 
 held ready for such an extremity. 
 
 The fanatic let her go, and staggered backward, half stupified ; 
 while Phoebe instantly betook herself to flight, screaming for help 
 as she ran, but still grasping the victorious pebble. Irritated to 
 frenzy by the severe blow which he had received, Tomkins pur- 
 sued, with every black passion in his soul and in his face, mingled 
 with fear lest his villany should be discovered. He called on 
 Phoebe loudly to stop, and had the brutality to menace her with 
 one of his pistols if she continued to fly. Yet she slacked not her 
 pace for his threats, and he must either have executed them, or seen 
 her escape to carry the tale to the Lodge, had she not unhappily 
 stuinbled over the projecting root of a fir-tree. But as he rushed 
 upon his prey, rescue interposed in the person of Joceline Joliffe, 
 with his quarterstaff on his shoulder. " How now ? what means 
 this ? " he said, stepping between Phcebe and her pursuer. 
 Tomkins, already roused to fury, .made no other answer than by 
 
WOODSTOCK. 353 
 
 discharging at Joceline the pistol which he held in his hand. 
 The ball grazed the under-keeper's face, who, in requital of the 
 assault, and saying, " Aha ! Let ash answer iron," applied his 
 quarterstaif with so much force to the Independent's head, that 
 lighting on the left temple, the blow proved almost instantly 
 mortal. 
 
 A few convulsive struggles were accompanied with these broken 
 words, — " Joceline — I am gone — but I forgive thee — Doctor Roche- 
 clifife — I wish I had minded more— Oh ! — the clergyman — the 
 
 fimeral-service " As he uttered these words, indicative, it 
 
 may be, of his return to a creed, which perhaps he had never 
 abjured so thoroughly as he had persuaded himself, his voice was 
 lost in a groan, which rattling in the throat, seemed unable to find 
 its way to the air. These were the last symptoms of life : the 
 clenched hands presently relaxed — the closed eyes opened, and 
 stared on the heavens a lifeless jelly — the limbs extended them- 
 selves and stiffened. The body, which was lately animated with 
 life, was now a lump of senseless clay — the soul, dismissed from 
 its earthly tenement in a moment so unhallowed, was gone before 
 the judgment-seat. 
 
 " Oh, what have you done ? what have you done, Joceline ! " 
 exclaimed Phoebe ; '' you have killed the man ! " 
 
 " Better than he should have killed me," answered Joceline ; " for 
 he was none of the blinkers that miss their mark twice running. — 
 And yet I am sorry for him — Many a merry bout have we had 
 together when he was wild Phihp Hazeldine, and then he was bad 
 enough; but since he daubed over his vices with hypocrisy, he 
 seems to have proved worse devil than ever." 
 
 " Oh, Joceline, come away," said poor Phoebe, " and do not stand 
 gazing on him thus ;" for the woodman, resting on his fatal 
 weapon, stood looking down on the corpse with the appearance of 
 a man half stunned at the event. 
 
 " This comes of the ale-pitcher," she continued, in the true style 
 of female consolation, " as I have often told you — For Heaven's 
 sake, come to the Lodge, and let us consult what is to be done." 
 
 " Stay first, girl, and let me drag him out of the path ; we must 
 not have him lie here in all men's sight — Will you not Tielp me, 
 wench ? " 
 
 " I cannot, Joceline — I would not touch a lock on him for all 
 Woodstock." 
 
 " I must to this gear myself, then,'' said Jocehne, who, a soldier 
 as well as a woodsman, still had great reluctance to the necessary 
 task. Something in the face and broken words of the dying man 
 had made a deep and terrific impression on nerves not easily 
 shaken. He accomplished it, however, so far as to drag the late 
 
 A A 2 
 
3S6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Steward out of the opeii path,' and bestow his body amongst the 
 undergrowth of brambles and briers, so as not to be visible unless 
 particularly looked after. He then returned to Phoebe, who had sat 
 speechless all the while beneath the tree over whose roots she had 
 stumbled. 
 
 " Come away, wench," he said, " come away to the Lodge, and 
 let us study how this is to be answered for — the mishap of his being 
 ■killed will strangely increase our danger. What had he sought of 
 thee, wench, when you ran from him like a madwoman ? — But I 
 can guess — Phil was always a devil among the girls, and I think, 
 as Doctor Rochecliffe says, that, since he turned saint, he took to 
 himself seven devils worse than himself. — Here is the very place 
 where I saw him, with his sword in his hand raised against the old 
 knight, and he a c' ''d of the parish — it was high treason at least — 
 but, by my faith, he hath paid for it at last." 
 
 " But, oh, Joceline," said Phoebe, " how could you take so 
 wicked a man into your counsels, and join him in all his plots 
 about scaring the roundhead gentlemen ? " 
 
 - " Why look thee, wench, I thought I knew him at the first meet- 
 ing, especially when Bevis, who was bred here when he was a dog- 
 leader, would not fly at him ; and when we made up our old ac- 
 quaintance at the Lodge, I found he kept up a clpse correspondence 
 with Dr. Rochecliffe, who was persuaded that he was a good King's 
 man, and held consequently good intelligence with him. — The 
 Doctor boasts to have learned much through his means ; I wish to 
 Heaven he may not have been as communicative in turn." 
 
 " Oh, Joceline," said the waiting-woman, " you should never have 
 let him within the gate of the Lodge ! " 
 
 "No more I would, if I had known how to keep him out ; but 
 when he went so frankly into our scheme, and told me how I was 
 to dress myself like Robinson the player, whose ghost haunted 
 Harrison— I wish no ghost may haunt me !— when he taught me 
 how to bear myself to terrify his lawful master, what could I think, 
 wench ? I only trust the Doctor has kept the great secret of all 
 from his knowledge.— But here we are at the Lodge. Go to thy 
 chamber, wench, and compose thyself. I must seek out Doctor 
 Rochecliffe; he. is ever talking of his quick and ready invention. 
 Here come times, I think, that will demand it all." 
 
 Phoebe! went to her chamber accordingly; but the strength 
 arising from the pressure of danger giving way when the danger 
 was removed, she quickly fell into a succession of hysterical fits, 
 which requited the constant attention of Dame Jellicot, and the 
 less alarmed, but more judicious care of Mrs. Alice, before they 
 even abated in their rapid recurrence. 
 
 The under-keeper carried his news to the politic Doctor, who 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3S7 
 
 was extremely disconcerted, alarmed, nay angry with Joceline, for 
 having slain a person on whose communications he had accustomed 
 himself to rely. Yet his looks declared his suspicion, whether his 
 confidence had not been too rashly conferred — a suspicion which 
 pressed him the more anxiously, that he was unwilling to avow it, 
 as a derogation from his character for shrewdness on which he 
 valued himself. 
 
 Doctor Rochecliffe's reliance, however, on the fidelity of Tomkins, 
 had apparently good grounds. Before the Civil Wars, as may be 
 partly collected from what has been already hinted at, Tomkins, 
 under his true name of Hazeldine, had been under the protection of 
 the Rector of Woodstock, occasionally acted as his clerk, was a 
 distinguished member of his choir, and, being a handy and in- 
 genious fellow, was employed in assisting the antiquarian researches 
 of Dr. Rochecliffe through the interior of Woodstock. When he 
 engaged in the opposite side in the Civil Wars, he still kept up his 
 intelligence with the divine, to whom he had afforded what seemed 
 valuable information from time to time. His assistance had 
 latterly been eminently useful in aiding the Doctor, with the 
 assistance of Joceline and Phcebe, in contriving and executing the 
 various devices by which the Parliamentary Commissioners had 
 been expelled from Woodstock. Indeed, his services in this respect 
 had been thought worthy of no less a reward than a present of 
 what plate remained at the Lodge, which had been promised to the 
 Independent accordingly. The Doctor, therefore, while admitting 
 he might be a bad man, regretted him as a useful one, whose death, 
 if enquired after, was likely to bring additional danger on a house 
 which danger already surrounded, and which contained a pledge 
 so precious. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Cassia. That thrust had been my enemy indeed. 
 But that my coat is better than thou know'st. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 On the dark October night succeeding the evening on which 
 Tomkins was slain, Colonel Everard, besides his constant attendant 
 Roger Wildrake, had Master Nehemiah Holdenough with him as 
 a guest at supper. The devotions of the evening having been per- 
 formed according to the Presbyterian fashion, a light entertain- 
 ment, and a double quart of burnt claret, were placed before his 
 friends at nine o'clock, an hour unusually late. Master Holdenough 
 soon engaged himself in a polemical discourse against Sectaries 
 
358 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 and Independents, without being aware that his eloquence was not 
 very interesting to his principal hearer, whose ideas in the mean- 
 while wandered to Woodstock and all which it contained — the 
 Prince, who lay concealed there — ^his uncle — above all, Alice Lee. 
 As for Wildrake, after bestowing a mental curse both on Sectaries 
 and Presbyterians, as being, in his opinion, never a barrel the better 
 herring, he stretched out his limbs, and would probably have com- 
 posed himself to rest, but that he as well as his patron had thoughts 
 which murdered sleep. 
 
 The party were waited upon by a little gipsy-looking boy, in an 
 orange-tawny doublet, much decayed, and garnished with blue 
 worsted lace. The rogue looked somewhat stinted in size, but 
 active both in intelligence and in limb, as his black eyes seemed to 
 promise by their vivacity. He was an attendant of Wildrake's 
 choice, who had conferred on him the nom de guerre of Spitfire, 
 and had promised him promotion so soon as his young prot^gd. 
 Breakfast, was fit to succeed him in his present office. It need 
 scarce be said, that the manage was maintained entirely at the 
 expense of Colonel Everard, who allowed Wildrake to arrange the 
 household very much according to his pleasure. The page did not 
 omit, in offering the company wine from time to time, to accom- 
 modate Wildrake with about twice the number of opportunities of 
 refreshing himself which he considered it necessary to afford to the 
 Colonel or his reverend guest. 
 
 While they were thus engaged, the good divine lost in his own 
 argument, and the hearers in their private thoughts, their attention 
 was about half past ten arrested by a knocking at the door of the 
 house. To those who have anxious hearts, trifles give cause of alarm. 
 
 Even a thing so simple as a knock at the door, may have a 
 character which excites apprehension. This was no quiet gentle 
 tap, intimating a modest intruder ; no redoubled rattle, as the 
 pompous annunciation of some vain person ; neither did it resemble 
 the formal summons to fornial business, nor the cheerful visit of 
 some welcome friend. It was a single blow, solemn and stern, if 
 not actually menacing in the sound. The door was opened by 
 some of the persons of the house ; a heavy foot ascended the stair 
 — a stout man entered the room, and drawing the cloak from his 
 face, said, " Markham Everard, I greet thee in God's name." 
 
 It was General Cromwell. 
 
 Everard, surprised and taken at unawares, endeavoured in vain 
 to find words to express his astonishment. A bustle occurred in 
 receiving the General, assisting him to uncloak himself, and offering 
 in dumb show the civilities of reception. The General cast his keen 
 eye around the apartment, and fixing it first on the divine, addressed 
 Everard as follows : 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3S9 
 
 " A reverend man I see is with thee. Thou art not one of those, 
 good Markham, who let the time unnoted and unimproved pass 
 away. — Casting aside the things of this world — pressing forward to 
 those of the next — it is by thus using our time in this poor seat of 
 
 terrestrial sin and care, that we may, as it were But how is 
 
 this ?"— he continued, suddenly changing his tone, and speaking 
 briefly, sharply, and anxiously — " One hath left the room since I 
 entered ? " 
 
 Wildrake had, indeed, been absent for a minute or two, but had 
 now returned, and stepped forward from a bay window, as if he had 
 been out of sight only, not out of the apartment. " Not so, sir, I 
 stood but in the background out of respect. Noble General, I hope 
 all is well with the Estate, that your Excellency makes us so late a 
 visit ? — Would not your Excellency choose some " 
 
 " Ah ! " said Oliver, looking sternly and fixedly at him — " Our 
 trusty Gobetween — our faithful confidant — No, sir ; at present, I 
 desire nothing more than a kind reception, which, methinks, my 
 friend Markham Everard is in no hurry to give me." 
 
 "You bring your own welcome, my Icg-d," said Everard, com- 
 pelling himself to speak, " I can only trust it was no bad news 
 that made your Excellency a late traveller, and ask, like my fol- 
 lower, what refreshment I shall command for your accommodation." 
 
 " The State is sound and healthy. Colonel Everard," said the 
 General ; " and yet the less so, that many of its members, who 
 have been hitherto workers together, and propounders of good 
 counsel, and advancers of the public weal, have now waxed cold in 
 their love and in their affection for the Good Cause, for which we 
 should be ready, in our various degrees, to act and do, so soon as 
 we are called to act that whereunto we are appointed, neither 
 rashly, nor over-slothfuUy, neither lukewarmly nor over-violently, 
 but with such a frame and disposition, in which zeal and charity 
 may, as it were, meet and kiss each other in our streets. Howbeit, 
 because we look back after we have put our hand to the plough, 
 therefore is our force waxed dim." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," said Nehemiah Holdenough, who, listening 
 with some impatience, began to guess in whose company he stood 
 — " Pardon me, for unto this I have a warrant to speak." 
 
 " Ah ! ah ! " said Cromwell. " Surely, most worthy sir, we grieve 
 the Spirit when we restrain those pourings forth, which like water 
 from a rock"— — 
 
 " Nay, therein I differ from you, sir," said Holdenough ; " for as 
 there is the mouth to transmit the food, and the profit to digest 
 what Heaven hath sent ; so is the preacher ordained to teach, and 
 the people to hear, — the shepherd to gather the flock into the sheep- 
 fold, the sheep to profit by the care of the shepherd." 
 
36o WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Ah ! my worthy sir," said Cromwell, with much unction — 
 " methinks you verge upon the great mistake, which supposes that 
 churches are tall large houses built by masons, and hearers are 
 men — ^wealthy men, who pay tithes, the larger, as well as the less ; 
 and that the priests, men in black gowns or grey cloaks, who receive 
 the same, are in guerdon the only distributors of Christian blessings 
 — Whereas, in my apprehension, there is more of Christian liberty 
 in leaving it to the discretion of the hungry soul to seek his edifica- 
 tion where it can be found, whether from the mouth of a lay 
 teacher, who claimeth his warrant from Heaven alone, or at the 
 dispensation of those who take ordination and degrees from synods 
 and universities, at best but associations of poor sinful creatures 
 like themselves." 
 
 "You speak you know not what, sir," replied Holdenough, im- 
 patiently. " Can light come out of darkness, sense out of ignorance, 
 or knowledge of the mysteries of religion from such ignorant 
 mediciners as give poisons instead of wholesome medicaments, 
 and cram with filth the stomachs of such as seek to them for 
 food?" 
 
 This, which the Presbyterian divine uttered rather warmly, the 
 General answered with the utmost mildness. 
 
 " Lack-a-day, lack-a-day ! a learned man, but intemperate ; over- 
 zeal hath eaten him up. — A well-a-day, sir, you may talk of your 
 regular gospel-meals, but a word spoken in season by one whose 
 heart is with your heart, just perhaps when you are riding on to 
 encounter an enemy, or are about to mount a breach, is to the poor 
 spirit like a rasher on the coals, which the hungry shall find pre- 
 ferable to a great banquet, at such times when the full soul loatheth 
 the honeycomb. Nevertheless, although I speak thus in my poor 
 judgment, I would not put force on the conscience of any man, 
 leaving to the learned to follow the learned, and the wise to be 
 instructed by the wise, while poor simple wretched souls are not to 
 be denied a drink from the stream which runneth by the way. — Ay, 
 verily, it will be a comely sight in England when men shall go on 
 as in a better world, bearing with each other's infirmities, joining in 
 each other's comforts. — Ay, truly, the rich drink out of silver 
 flagons, and goblets of silver, the poor out of paltry bowls of wood 
 — and even so let it be, since they both drink the same element." 
 
 Here an officer opened the door and looked in, to whom Crom- 
 well, exchanging the canting drawl, in which it seemed he might 
 have goiie on interminably, for the short brief tone of action, called 
 out, " Pearson, is he come ? " 
 
 " No, sir," replied Pearson ; " we have enquired for him at 
 the place you noted, and also at other haunts of his about the 
 town." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 361 
 
 " The knave ! " said Cromwell, with bitter emphasis ; " can he 
 have proved false ? — No, no, his interest is too deeply engaged. We 
 shall find him by and by.— Hark thee hither." 
 . While this conversation was going forward, the reader must 
 imagine the alarm of Everard. He was certain that the personal 
 attendance of Cromwell must be on some most important account, 
 and he could not but strongly suspect that the General had some 
 information respecting Charles's lurking place. If taken, a renewal 
 of the tragedy of the 30th of January was instantly to be appre- 
 hended, and the ruin of the whole family of Lee, with himself pro- 
 bably included, must be the necessary consequence. 
 
 He looked eagerly for consolation at Wildrake, whose counte- 
 nance expressed much alarm, which he endeavoured to bear out 
 with his usual look of confidence. But the weight within was too 
 great ; he shuffled with his feet, rolled his eyes, and twisted his 
 hands, like an unassured witness before an acute and not to be 
 deceived judge. 
 
 Oliver, meanwhile, left his company not a minute's leisure to take 
 counsel together. Even while his perplexed eloquence flowed on 
 in a stream so mazy that no one could discover which way its course 
 was tending, his sharp watchful eye rendered all attempts of 
 Everard to hold communication with Wildrake, even by signs, 
 altogether vain. Everard, indeed, looked for an instant at the 
 window, then glanced at Wildrake, as if to hint there might be a 
 possibility to escape that way. But the cavalier had replied with a 
 disconsolate shake of the head, so slight as to be almost impercep- 
 tible. Everard, therefore, lost all hope, and the melancholy feeling 
 of approaching and inevitable evil, was only varied by anxiety con- 
 cerning the shape and manner in which it was about to make its 
 approach. 
 
 But Wildrake had a spark of hope left. The very instant Crom- 
 well entered he had got out of the room, and down to the door of 
 the house. " Back — back ! " repeated by two armed sentinels, 
 convinced him that, as his fears had anticipated, the General had 
 come neither unattended nor unprepared. He turned on his heel, 
 ran up stairs, and meeting on the landing-place the boy whom he 
 called Spitfire, hurried him into the small apartment which he 
 occupied as his own. Wildrake had been shooting that morning, 
 and game lay on the table. He pulled a feather from a woodcock's 
 wing, and saying hastily, " For thy life. Spitfire, mind my orders — 
 1 will put thee safe ou: at the window into the court — the yard wall 
 is not high — and there will be rio sentry there — Fly to the Lodge, 
 as thou wouldst win Heaven, and give this feather to Mistress Alice 
 Lee, if possible — if not, to Joceline Joliffe — say I have won the 
 wager of the young lady. Dost mark me, boy ? " 
 
353 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 The sharp-witted youth clapped his hand in his master's, and 
 only replied, " Done, and done." 
 
 Wildrake opened the window, and, though the height was con- 
 siderable, he contrived to let the boy down safely by holding his 
 cloak. A heap of straw on which Spitfire lighted rendered the 
 descent perfectly safe, and Wildrake saw him scramble over the 
 wall of the court-yard, at the angle which bore on a back lane ; and 
 so rapidly was this accomplished, that the cavalier had just re- 
 entered the room, when, the bustle attending Cromwell's arrival 
 subsiding, his own absence began to be noticed. 
 
 He remained during Cromwell's lecture on the vanity of creeds, 
 anxious in mind whether he might not have done better to send an 
 explicit verbal message, since there was no time to write. But the 
 chance of the boy being stopped, or becoming confused with feeling 
 himself the messenger of a hurried and important communication, 
 made him, on the whole, glad that he had preferred a more 
 enigmatical way of conveying the intelligence. He had, therefore, 
 the advantage of his patron, for he was conscious still of a spark of 
 hope. 
 
 Pearson had scarce shut the door, when Holdenough, as ready 
 in arms against the future Dictator as he had been prompt to 
 encounter the supposed phantoms and fiends of Woodstock, 
 resumed his attack upon the schismatics, whom he undertook to 
 prove to be at once soul-slayers, false brethren, and false mes- 
 sengers ; and was proceeding to allege texts in behalf of his pro- 
 position, when Cromwell, apparently tired of the discussion, and 
 desirous to introduce a discourse more accordant with his real 
 feelings, interrupted him, though very civilly, and took-the discourse 
 into his own hands. 
 
 " Lack-a-day," he said, " the good man speaks truth, according to 
 his knowledge and to his lights — ay, bitter truths, and hard to be 
 digested, while we see as men see, and not with the eyes of angels. 
 — False messengers, said the reverend man ? — ay, truly, the world 
 is full of such — You shall see them who will carry your secret 
 message to the house of your mortal foe, and will say to him, ' Lo ! 
 my master is going forth with a small train, by such and such 
 desolate places ; be you speedy, therefore, that you may arise and 
 slay him.' And another, who knoweth where the foe of your house, 
 and enemy of your person, lies hidden, shall, instead of telling his 
 master thereof, carry tidings to the enemy even where he lurketh, 
 saying, ' Lo ! my master knoweth of your secret abode — up, now, 
 and fly, lest he come on thee like a lion on his prey.' — But shall 
 this go without punishment ? " looking at Wildrake with a wither- 
 ing glance. " Now, as my soul hveth, and as He liveth who hath 
 made me a ruler in Israel, such false messengers shall be knitted to 
 
WOODSTOCK. 363 
 
 gibbets on the way-side, and their right hands shall be nailed above 
 their heads, in an extended position, as if pointing out to others 
 the road from which they themselves have strayed 1 " 
 
 " Surely," said Master Holdenough, " it is right to cut off such 
 offenders." 
 
 " Thank ye, Mass-John," muttered Wildrake ; " when did the 
 Presbyterian fail to lend the devil a shove ? " 
 
 " But, I say," continued Holdenough, " that the matter is 
 estranged from our present purpose, for the false brethren of 
 whom I spoke are " 
 
 " Right, excellent sir, they be those of our own house," answered 
 Cromwell ; " the good man is right once more. — Ay, of whom can 
 we now say that he is a true brother, although he has lain in the 
 same womb with us? — Although we have struggled in the same 
 cause, eat at the same table, fought in the same battle, worshipped 
 at the same throne, there shall be no truth in him. — Ah, Markham 
 Everard, Markham Everard ! " 
 
 He paused at this ejaculation ; and Everard, desirous at once of 
 knowing how far he stood committed, replied, " Your Excellency 
 seems to have something in your mind in which I am concerned. 
 May I request you will speak it out, that I may know what I am 
 accused of?" 
 
 "Ah, Mark, Mark!" replied the General, "there needeth no 
 accuser speak when the still small voice speaks within us. Is there 
 not moisture on thy brow, Mark Everard ? — Is there not trouble in 
 thine eye ? — Is there not a failure in thy frame ? — And who ever saw 
 such things in noble and stout Markham Everard, whose brow was 
 only moist after having worn the helmet for a summer's day — whose 
 hand only shook when it had wielded for hours the weighty falchion ? 
 —But go to, man ! thou doubtest over much. Hast thou not been 
 to me as a brother, and shall I not forgive thee even the seventy- 
 seventh time? The knave hath tarried somewhere, who should 
 have done by this time an office of much import. Take advantage 
 of his absence, Mark; it is a grace that God gives thee beyond 
 expectance. I do not say, fall at my feet ; but speak to me as a 
 friend to his friend." 
 
 " I have never said any thing to your Excellency that was in the 
 least undeserving the title you have assigned to me," said Colonel 
 Everard, proudly. 
 
 " Nay, nay, Markham," answered Cromwell ; " I say not you 
 have — But — but you ought to have remembered the message I sent 
 you by that person " (pointing to Wildrake) ; " and you must 
 reconcile it with your conscience, how, having such a message, 
 guarded with such reasons, you could think yourself at liberty to 
 expel my friends from Woodstock, being determined to disappoint 
 
364 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 my object, whilst you availed yourself of the boon, on condition of 
 which my warrant was issued." 
 
 Everard was about to reply, when, to his astonishment, Wild- 
 rake stepped forward ; and with a voice and look very different 
 from his ordinary manner, and, approaching a good deal to 
 real dignity of mind, said boldly and calmly, " You are mistaken, 
 Master Cromwell; and address yourself to the wrong party 
 here." 
 
 The speech was so sudden and intrepid, that Cromwell stepped 
 a pace back, and motioned with his right hand towards his weapon, 
 as if he had expected that an address of a nature so unusually bold 
 was to be followed by some act of violence. He instantly resumed 
 his indifferent posture ; and, irritated at a smile which he observed 
 on Wildrake's countenance, he said, with the dignity of one long 
 accustome-d to see all tremble before him, " This to me, fellow ! 
 Know you to whom you speak ? " 
 
 " Fellow ! " echoed Wildrake, whose reckless humour was now 
 completely set afloat — " No fellow of yours. Master Oliver. I have 
 known the day when Roger Wildrake of Squattlesea-mere, Lincoln, 
 a handsome young gallant, with a good estate, would have been 
 thought no fellow of the bankrupt brewer of Huntingdon." 
 
 "Be silent !" said Everard; "be silent, Wildrake, if you love 
 your life ! " 
 
 " I care not a maravedi for my life," said Wildrake. — " Zounds, if 
 .he dislikes what I say, let him take to his tools ! I know, after all, 
 he hath good blood in his veins ; and I will indulge him with a turn 
 in the court yonder, had he been ten times a brewer." 
 
 " Such ribaldry, friend," said Oliver, " I treat with the contempt 
 it deserves. But if thou hast anything to say touching the matter 
 in question, speak out like a man, though thou look'st more like a 
 beast." 
 
 "All I have to say is,'' replied Wildrake, " that whereas yoa 
 blame Everard for acting on y6ur warrant, as you call it, I can tell 
 you, he knew not a word of the rascally conditions you talk of. I 
 took care of that ; and you may take the vengeance on me, if you 
 •Hst." 
 
 " Slave ! dare you tell this to me ? " said Cromwell, still heedfuUy 
 restraining his passion, which he felt was about to discharge itself 
 upon an unworthy object. 
 
 " Ay, you will make every Englishman a slave, if you have your 
 own way," said Wildrake, not a whit abashed ;— for the awe which 
 had formerly overcome him when alone with this remarkable man, 
 had vanished, now that they were engaged in an altercation before 
 witnesses. — ''But do your worst. Master Oliver; I tell you before- 
 hand, the bird has escaped you." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 36s 
 
 " Vou dare not say so !— Escaped ?— So, ho I Pearson ! tell the 
 soldiers to mount instantly. — Thou art a lying fool ! — Escaped ? — 
 Where, or from whence ? " 
 
 "Ay, that is the question," said Wildrake ; "for look you, sir — 
 that men do go from hence is certain — but how they go, or to what 
 quarter" 
 
 Cromwell stood attentive, expecting some useful hint from the 
 careless impetuosity of the cavalier, upon the route which the King 
 might have taken. 
 
 — " Or to what quarter, as I said before, why, your Excellency, 
 Master Oliver, may e'en find that out yourself." 
 
 As he uttered the last words he unsheathed his rapier, and made 
 a full pass at the General's body. Had his sword met no other im- 
 pediment than the buif jerkin, Cromwell's course had ended on the 
 spot. But, fearful of such attempts, the General wore under his 
 military dress a shirt of the finest mail, made of rings of the best 
 steel, and so light and flexible that it was little or no encumbrance 
 to the motions of the wearer. It proved his safety on this occasion, 
 for the rapier sprung in shivers ; while the owner, now held back 
 by Everard and Holdenough, flung the hilt with passion on the 
 ground, exclaiming, "Be damned the hand that forged thee ! — To 
 serve me so long, and fail me when thy true service would have 
 honoured us both for ever ! But no good could come of thee, since 
 thou wert pointed, even in jest, at a learned divine of the Church of 
 England." 
 
 In the first instant of alarm, and perhaps suspecting Wildrake 
 might be supported by others, Cromwell half drew from his bosom 
 a concealed pistol, which he hastily returned, observing that both 
 Everard and the clergyman were withholding the cavalier from 
 another attempt. 
 
 Pearson and a soldier or two rushed in — " Secure that fellow," 
 said the General, in the indifferent tone of one to whom imminent 
 danger was too familiar to cause irritation — " Bind him^but not so 
 hard, Pearson ; " — for the men, to show their zeal, were drawling 
 their belts, which they used for want of cords, brutally tight round 
 Wildrake's limbs. " He would have assassinated me, but I would 
 reserve him for his fit doom." 
 
 " Assassinated ! — I scorn your words, Master Oliver," said 
 Wildrake ; " I proffered you a fair duello." 
 
 " Shall we shoot him in the street, for an example ? " said Pearson 
 to Cromwell ; while Everard endeavoured to stop Wildrake from 
 giving further offence. 
 
 " On your life, harm him not ; but let hirh be kept in safe ward, 
 and well looked after," said Cromwell ; . while the prisoner ex- 
 claimed to Everard, " I prithee let me aloTie — I am now neither thy 
 
366 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 follower, nor any man's, and I am as willing to die as ever I was 
 to take a cup of liquor. — And hark ye, speaking of that, Master 
 Oliver, you were once a jolly fellow, prithee let one of thy lobsters 
 here advance yonder tankard to my lips, and your Excellency shall 
 hear a toast, a song, and a — secret." 
 
 " Unloose his head, and hand the debauched beast the tankard," 
 said Oliver ; " while yet he exists, it were shame to refuse him the 
 element he lives in." 
 
 " Blessings on your head for once ! " said Wildrake, whose object 
 in continuing this wild discourse was, if possible, to gain a little 
 delay, when every moment was precious. " Thou hast brewed good 
 ale, and that's warrant for a blessing. For my toast and my song, 
 here they go together — 
 
 ' Son of a witch, 
 Mayst thou die in a ditch, 
 
 With the butchers who back thy quarrels ; 
 And rot above ground. 
 While the world shall resound 
 
 A welcome to Royal King Charles ! ' 
 
 And now for my secret, that you may not say I had your liquor for 
 nothing — I fancy my song will scarce pass current for much — My 
 secret is. Master Cromwell — that the bird is flown — and your I'ed 
 nose will be as white as your winding-sheet before you can smell 
 out which way." 
 
 "Pshaw, rascal," answered Cromwell, contemptuously, "keep 
 your scurril jests for the gibbet foot." 
 
 " I shall look on the gibbet more boldly," replied Wildrake, 
 " than I have seen you look on the Royal Martyr's picture." 
 
 This reproach touched Cromwell to the very quick. — " Villain ! " 
 
 he exclaimed ; " drag him hence, draw out a party, and But 
 
 hold, not now — to prison with him— let him be close watched, and 
 gagged, if he attempts to speak to the sentinels— Nay, hold — I 
 mean, put a bottle of brandy into his cell, and he will gag himself in 
 his own way, I warrant you — When day comes, that men can see 
 the example, he shall be gagged after my fashion." 
 
 During the various breaks in his orders, the General was 
 evidently getting command of his temper ; and though he began in 
 fury, he ended with the contemptuous sneer of one who overlooks 
 the abusive language of an inferior. Something remained on his 
 mind notwithstanding, for he continued stationary, as if fixed to the 
 same spot in the apartment, his eyes bent on the ground, and with 
 closed hand pressed against his lips, like a man who is musing 
 deeply. Pearson, who was about to speak to him, drew back, and 
 made a sign to those in the room to be silent. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 367 
 
 Master Holdenough did not mark, or, at least, did not obey it. 
 Approaching the General, he said in a respectful but firm tone, 
 " Did I understand it to be your Excellency's purpose that this 
 poor man shall die next morning ? " 
 
 •' Hah ! " exclaimed Cromwell, starting from his reverie, " what 
 say'st thou ? " 
 
 " I took leave to ask, if it was your will that this unhappy man 
 should die to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Whom saidst thou ? " demanded Cromwell : " Markham 
 Everard — shall he die, saidst thou ? " 
 
 " God forbid ! " replied Holdenough, stepping back — " I asked 
 whether this blinded creature, Wildrake, was to be so suddenly cut 
 off?" 
 
 "Ay, marry is he," said Cromwell, "were the whole General 
 Assembly of Divines at Westminster — the whole Sanhedrim of 
 Presbytery — to offer bail for him." 
 
 " If you will not think better of it, sir,'' said Holdenough, "at 
 least give not the poor man the means of destroying his senses — 
 Let me go to him as a divine, to watch with him, in case he may 
 yet be admitted into the vineyard at the latest hour — yet brought 
 into the sheepfold, though he has neglected the call of the pastor 
 till time is wellnigh closed upon him." 
 
 " For God's sake," said Everard, who had hitherto kept silence, 
 because he knew Cromwell's temper on such occasions, " think 
 better of what you do ! " 
 
 " Is it for thee to teach me ? " replied Crornwell ; " think thou of 
 thine own matters, and believe me it will require all thy wit. And 
 for you, reverend sir, I will have no father-confessors attend my 
 prisoners — no tales out of school. If the fellow thirsts after ghostly 
 comfort, as he is much more hke to thirst after a quartern of brandy, 
 there iS Corporal Humgudgeon, who commands the cprps de garde, 
 will preach and pray as well as the best of ye. — But this delay is 
 intolerable — Comes not this fellow yet?" 
 
 " No, sir," replied Pearson. " Had we not better go down to the 
 Lodge? The news of our coming hither may else get there before us." 
 
 " True," said Cromwell, speaking aside to his officer, " but you 
 know Tomkins warned us against doing so, alleging there were so 
 many postern-doors, and sallyports, and concealed entrances in the 
 old house, that it was like a rabbit-warren, and that an escape 
 might be easily made under our very noses, unless he were with us, 
 to point out all the ports which should be guarded. He hinted, too, 
 that he might be delayed a few minutes after Dis time of appoint- 
 ment — but we have now waited half-an-hour." 
 
 " Does your Excellency think Tomkins is certainly to be de- 
 pended upon ? " said Pearson. 
 
363 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "As far as his interest goes, unquestionably," replied the General. 
 " He has ever been the pump by which I have sucked the marrow 
 out of many a plot, in special those of the conceited fool Rochecliffe, 
 who is goose enough to believe that such a fellow as Tomkins 
 would value anything beyond the offer of the best bidder. And yet 
 it groweth late — I fear we must to the Lodge without him — Yet, all 
 things well considered, I will tarry here till midnight. — Ah ! 
 Everard, thou mightest put this gear to rights if thou wilt ! Shall 
 some foolish principle of fantastic punctilio have more weight with 
 thee, man, than have the pacification and welfare of England ; the 
 keeping of faith to thy friend and benefactor, and who will be yet 
 more so, and the fortune and security of thy relations ? Are these, 
 I say, lighter in the balance than the cause of a worthless boy, who 
 with his father and his father's house have troubled Israel for fifty 
 years ? " 
 
 " I do not understand your Excellency, nor at what service you 
 point, which I can honestly render," replied Everard. " That 
 which is dishonest I should be loath that you proposed." 
 
 " Then this at least might suit your honesty, or scrupulous 
 humour, call it which thou wilt," said Cromwell. " Thou knowest, 
 surely, all the passages about Jezebel's palace down yonder? — Let 
 me know how they may be guarded against the escape of any from 
 within." 
 
 " I cannot pretend to aid you in this matter," said Everard ; " I 
 know not all the entrances and posterns about Woodstock, and if 
 I did, I am not free in conscience to communicate with you on this 
 occasion." 
 
 " We shall do without you, sir," replied Cromwell, haughtily ; 
 " and if aught is found which may criminate you, remember you 
 have lost right to my protection." 
 
 " I shall be sorry,'' said Everard, " to have lost your friendship. 
 General ; but I trust my quality as an Englishman may dispense 
 with the necessity of protection from any man. I know no law 
 which obliges me to be spy or informer, even if I were in the way 
 of having opportunity to do service in either honourable capacity." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Cromwell, " for all your privileges and qualities, 
 I will make bold to take you down to the Lodge at Woodstock to- 
 night, to enquire into affairs in which the State is concerned. — 
 Come hither, Pearson." He took a paper from his pocket con- 
 taining a rough sketch or ground-plan of Woodstock Lodge, with 
 the avenues leading to it. — " Look here," he said, " we must move 
 in two bodies on foot, and with all possible silence — thou must 
 march to the rear of the old house of iniquity with twenty file of 
 men, and dispose them around it the wisest thou canst. Take the 
 reverend man there along with you. He must be secured at any 
 
WOODSTOCK, 369 
 
 rate, and may serve as a guide. I myself will occupy the front of 
 the Lodge, and thus having stopt all the earths, thou wilt come to 
 me for farther orders silence and dispatch is all. — But for the dog 
 Tomkins, who broke appointment with me, he had need render a 
 good excuse, or woe to his father's son ! — Reverend sir, be pleased 
 to accompany that officer. — Colonel Everard, you are to follow me ; 
 but first give your sword to Captain Pearson, and consider yourself 
 as under arrest." 
 
 Everard gave his sword to Pearson without any comment, and 
 with the most anxious presage of evil followed the Republican 
 General, in obedience to commands which it would have been 
 useless to dispute. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Were my son William here but now, 
 He wadna fail the pledge." 
 Wi' that in at the door there ran 
 A ghastly-looking page — 
 " I saw them, master, O ! I saw, 
 Beneath the thorhie brae, 
 Of black-mail'd warriors many a rank." 
 " Revenge 1" he cried, " and gae ! " — 
 
 Henry Mackenzie. 
 
 The little party at the Lodge were assembled at supper, at the 
 early hour of eight o'clock. Sir Henry Lee, neglecting the food 
 that was placed on the table, stood by a lamp on the chimney- 
 piece, and read a letter with mournful attention. 
 
 " Does my son write to you more particularly than to me, Doctor 
 Rochecliffe? "'said the knight. " He only says here, that he will 
 return probably this night ; and that Master Kerneguy must be 
 ready to set off with him instantly. What can this haste mean? 
 Have you heard of any new search after our suffering party ? I 
 wish they would permit me to enjoy my son's company in quiet 
 but for a day." 
 
 " The quiet which depends on the wicked ceasing from troubling," 
 said Dr. Rochecliffe, "is connected,. not by days and hours, but by 
 minutes. Their glut of blood at Worcester had satiated them for a 
 moment, but their appetite, I fancy, has revived." 
 
 " You have news, then, to that purpose ? " said Sir Henry. 
 
 " Your son," replied the Doctor, " wrote to me by the same mes- 
 senger ; he seldom fails to do so, being aware of what importance 
 it is that I should know every thing that passes. Means of escape 
 are provided on the coast, and Master Kerneguy must be ready to 
 start with your son the instant he appears." 
 
 B B 
 
370 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 " It is strange," said the knight ; " for forty years I have dwelt 
 in this house, man and boy, and the point only was how to make 
 the day pass over our heads ; for if I did not scheme out some 
 hunting match or hawking, or the like, I might have sat here on 
 my arm-chair, as undisturbed as a sleeping dormouse, from one 
 end of the year to the other ; and now I am more like a hare on 
 her form, that dare not sleep unless with her eyes open, and scuds 
 off when the wind rustles among the fern." 
 
 " It is strange," said Alice, looking at Doctor Rochecliffe, " that 
 the roundhead steward has told you nothing of this. He is usually 
 communicative enough of the motions of his party ; and I saw you 
 close together this morning." 
 
 " I must be closer with him this evening," said the Doctor 
 gloomily ; " but he will not blab." 
 
 " I wish you may not trust him too much," said Alice in reply. — 
 " To me, that man's face, with all its shrewdness, evinces such a 
 dark expression, that methinks I read treason in his very eye." 
 
 " Be assured, that matter is looked to," answered the Doctor, in 
 the same ominous tone as before. No one replied, and there was 
 a chilling and anxious feeling of apprehension which seemed to 
 sink down on the company at once, like those sensations which 
 make such constitutions as are particularly subject to the elec- 
 trical influence, conscious of an approaching thunder-storm. 
 
 The disguised Monarch, apprized that day to be prepared on 
 short notice to quit his temporary asylum, felt his own share of 
 the gloom which involved the little society. But he was the first 
 also to shake it off, as what neither suited his character nor his 
 situation. Gaiety was the leading distinction of the former, and 
 presence of mind, not depression of spirits, was required by the 
 latter. 
 
 " We make the hour heavier," he said, " by being melancholy 
 about it. Had you not better join me, Mistress Alice, in Patrick 
 Carey's jovial farewell? — Ah, you do not know Pat Carey — a 
 younger brother of Lord Falkland's ?"* 
 
 " A brother of the immortal Lord Falkland's, and write songs ! " 
 said the Doctor. 
 
 " Oh, Doctor, the Muses take tithe as well as the Church," said 
 Charles, " and have their share in every family of distinction. You 
 do not know the words, Mistress AUce, but you can aid me not- 
 withstanding, in the burden at least — 
 
 ' Come, now that we're parting, and 'tis one to ten 
 If the towers of sweet Woodstock I e'er see agen. 
 Let us e'en have a frolic, and drink like tall men, 
 While the goblet goes merrily round.'"* 
 
WOODSTOCK. 371 
 
 The song ai'ose, but not with spirit. It was one of those efforts 
 at forced mirth, by which, above all other modes of expressing it, 
 the absence of real cheerfulness is most distinctly intimated, 
 Charles stopt the song, and upbraided the choristers. 
 
 " You sing, my dear Mistress Alice, as if you were chanting one 
 of the seven penitential psalms ; and you, good Doctor, as if you 
 recited the funeral service." 
 
 The Doctor rose hastily from the table, and turned to the 
 window ; for the expression connected singularly with the task 
 which he was that evening to discharge. Charles looked at him 
 with some surprise ; for the peril in which he lived, made him 
 watchful of the slightest motions of those around him— then turned 
 to Sir Henry, and said, " My honoured host, can you tell any 
 reason for this moody fit, which has so strangely crept upon us 
 all?" 
 
 " Not I, my dear Louis," replied the knight ; " I have no skill in 
 these nice quillets of philosophy. I could as soon undertake to 
 tell you the reason why Bevis turns round tliree times before he 
 lies down. I can only say for myself, that if age and sorrow and 
 uncertainty be enough to break a jovial spirit, or at least to bend 
 it now and then, I have my share of them all ; so that I, for one, 
 cannot say that I am sad merely because I am not merry. I have 
 but too good cause for sadness, — I would I saw my son, were it but 
 for u minute ! " 
 
 Fortune seemed for once disposed to gratify the old man; for 
 Albert Lee entered at that moment. He was dressed in a riding 
 suit, and appeared to have travelled hard. He cast his eye hastily 
 around as he entered. It rested for a second on that of the disguised 
 Prince, and, satisfied with the glance which he received in lieu, he 
 hastened, after the fashion of the olden day, to kneel down to his 
 father, and request his blessing. 
 
 " It is thine, my boy," said the old man ; a tear springing to his 
 eyes as he laid his hand on the long locks which distinguished the 
 young cavalier's rank and principles, and which, usually combed 
 and curled with some care, now hung wild and dishevelled about 
 his shoulders. They remained an instant in this posture, when the 
 old man suddenly started from it, as if ashamed of the emotion 
 which he had expressed before so many witnesses, and passing the 
 back of his hand hastily across his eyes, bid Albert get up, and 
 mind his supper, " since I dare say you have ridden fast and far 
 since you last baited — and we'll send round a cup to his health, if 
 Doctor Rochecliffe and the good company pleases — Joceline, thou 
 knave, skink about — thou look'st as if thou hadst seen a ghost." 
 
 "Joceline," said Alice, "is sick for sympathy — one of the stags 
 ran at Phoebe Mayflower to-day, and she was fain to have JoceUne's 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 .assistance to drive the creature off— the girl has been in fits since 
 she came home." 
 
 " Silly slut," said the old knight — " She a woodman's daughter ! 
 —But, Joceline, if the deer gets dangerous, you must send a broad 
 arrow through him." 
 
 " It will not need. Sir Henry," said Joceline, speaking with great 
 difficulty of utterance — " he is quiet enough now — he will not offend 
 in that sort again." 
 
 "See it be so," replied the knight j "remember Mistress Alice, 
 often walks in the Chase. — And now fill round, and fill, too, a cup 
 to thyself to over-red thy fear, as mad Will has it. — Tush, man, 
 Phoebe will do well enough — she only screamed and ran, that thou 
 mightst have the pleasure to help her. — Mind what thou dost, and 
 do not go spilling the wine after that fashion, — Come, here is a 
 health to our wanderer, who has come to us again." 
 
 " None will pledge it more wiUingly than I," said the disguised 
 Prince, unconsciously assuming an importance which the character 
 he personated scarce warranted ; but Sir Henry, who had become 
 fond of the supposed page, with all his peculiarities, imposed only 
 a moderate rebuke upon his petulance. " Thou art a merry, good- 
 humoured youth, Louis," he said ; " but it is a world to see how 
 the forwardness of the present generation hath gone beyond the 
 gravity and reverence which in my youth was so regularly observed 
 towards those of higher rank and station — I dared no more have 
 given my own tongue the rein, when there was a doctor of divinity 
 in company, than I would have dared to have spoken in church in 
 service-time." 
 
 " True, sir," said Albert, hastily interfering ; " but Master Ker- 
 neguy had the better right to' speak at present, that I have been 
 absent on his business as well as my own, have seen several of his 
 friends, and bring him important intelligence." 
 
 Charles was about to rise and beckon Albert aside, naturally 
 impatient to know what news he had procured, or what scheme of 
 safe escape was now decreed for him. But Doctor Rochecliffe 
 twitched his cloak, as a hint to him to sit still, and not show any 
 extraordinary motive for anxiety, since, in case of a sudden dis- 
 covery of his real quality, the violence of Sir Henry Lee's feelings 
 might have been likely to attract too much attention. 
 
 Charles, therefore, only replied, as to the knight's stricture, that 
 he had a particular title to be sudden and unceremonious in express- 
 ing his thanks to Colonel Lee — that gratitude was apt to be unman- 
 nerly — finally, that he was much obliged to Sir Henry for his ad- 
 monition ; and that quit Woodstock when he would, " he was sure 
 to leave it a better man than he came there." 
 
 His speech was of course ostensibly directed towards the father j 
 
WOODSTOCK. 373 
 
 but a glance at Alice assured her that she had a full share in the 
 compliment. 
 
 " I fear," he concluded, addressing Albert, " that you come to 
 tell us our stay here must be very short." 
 
 " A few hours only," said Albert — "just enough for needful rest 
 for ourselves and our horses. I have procured two which are good 
 and tried. But Doctor Rochecliffe broke faith with me. I expected 
 to have met some one down at Joceline's hut, where 1 left the horses ; 
 and finding no person, I was delayed an hour in littering them down 
 myself, that they might be ready for to-morrow's work — for we must 
 be off before day." 
 
 " I — I — intended to have sent Tomkins — but — but" hesitated 
 
 the Doctor, "I" 
 
 " The roundheaded rascal was drunk, or out of the way, I pre- 
 sume," said Albert. " I am glad of it — you may easily trust him 
 too far." 
 
 " Hitherto he has been faithful," said the Doctor, " and I scarce 
 think he will fail me now. But Joceline will go down and have the 
 horses in readiness in the morning." 
 
 joceline's countenance was usually that of alacrity itself in a case 
 extraordinary. Now, however, he seemed to hesitate. 
 
 " You will go with me a little way, Doctor ?" he said, as he edged 
 himself closely to Rochecliffe. 
 
 " How ? puppy, fool, and blockhead," said the knight, " wouldst 
 thou ask Doctor Rochecliffe to bear thee company at this hour ? — 
 Out, hound ! — get down to the kennel yonder instantly, or I will 
 break the knave's pate of thee." 
 
 Joceline looked with an eye of agony at the divine, as if entreat- 
 ing him to interfere in his behalf ; but just as'he was about to speak, 
 a most melancholy howling arose at the hall-door, and a dog was 
 heard scratching for admittance. 
 
 " What alls Bevis next ?" said the old knight. " I think this must 
 be All- Fools-day, and that every thing around me is going mad !" 
 
 The same sound startled Albert and Charles from a private con- 
 ference in which they had engaged, and Albert ran to the hall-door 
 to examine personally into the cause of the noise. 
 
 " It is no alarm," said the old knight to Kerneguy, " for in such 
 cases the dog's bark is short, sharp, and furious. These long howls 
 are said to be ominous. It was even so that Bevis's grandsire bayed 
 the whole livelong night on which my poor father died. If it comes 
 now as a presage, God send it regard the old and useless, not the 
 young, and those who may yet serve King and country !" 
 
 The dog had pushed past Colonel Lee, who stood a little while 
 at the hall-door to listen if there were any thing stirring without, 
 while Bevis advanced into the room where the company wer 
 
374 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 assembled, bearing 'something in his mouth, atnd exhibiting, in ail 
 unusual degree, that sense of duty and interest which a dog seems 
 to show when he thinks he has the charge of something important. 
 He entered, therefore, drooping his long tail, slouching his head 
 and ears, and walking with the stately yet melancholy dignity of a 
 war-horse at his master's funeral. In this manner he paced through 
 the room, went straight up to Joceline, who had been regarding him 
 with astonishment, and uttering a short and melancholy howl, laid 
 at his feet the object which he bore in his mouth. Joceline stooped, 
 and took from the floor a man's glove, of the fashion worn by the 
 troopers, having something like the old-fashioned gauntlet projec- 
 tions of thick leather arising from the wrist, which go half way up 
 to the elbow, and secure the arm against a cut with a sword. But 
 Joceline had no sooner looked at what in itself was so common an 
 object, than he dropped it from his hand, staggered backward, 
 uttered a groan, and nearly fell to the ground. 
 
 " Now, the coward's curse be upon thee for an idiot ! " said the 
 knightf, who had picked up the glove, and was looking at it — "thou 
 shouldst be sent back to school, and ilogged till the craven's blood 
 was switched out of thee — ^What dost thou look at but a glove, thou 
 base poltroon, and a very dirty glove too ? — Stay, here is writing — 
 Joseph Tomkins ? — why, that is the roundheaded fellow — I wish he 
 hath not come to some mischief— for this is not dirt on the cheveron, 
 but blood — Bevis may have bit the fellow, and yet the dog seemed 
 to love him well too — or the stag may have hurt him — Out, Joceline, 
 instantly, and see where he is — wind your bugle." 
 
 " I cannot go," said Joliffe, " unless " — and again he looked 
 piteously at Doctor Rochecliffe, who saw no time was to be lost in 
 appeasing the ranger's terrors, as his ministry was most needful in 
 the present circumstances. — " Get spade and mattock," he whispered 
 to him, "and a dark lantern, and meet me in the wilderness." 
 
 Joceline left the room ; and the Doctor, before following him, 
 had a few words of explanation with Colonel Lee; His own spirit, 
 far from being dismayed on the occasiorf, rather rose higher, like 
 one whose natural element was intrigue and danger. " Here hath 
 been wild work," he said, " since you parted. Tomkins was rude 
 to the wench Phoebe— Joceline and he had a brawl together, and 
 Tomkins is lying dead in the thicket, not. far from Rosamond's 
 Well. It will be necessary that Joceline and I go directly to bury 
 the body ; for besides that some one might stumble upon it, and 
 raise an alarm, this fellow Joceline will never be fit for any active 
 purpose till it is under ground. Though as stout as a lion, the 
 under-keeper has his own weak side, and is more afraid of a dead 
 body than a living one. When do you propose to start to-morrow ? " 
 
 «'By daybreak, or earlier;" said Colonel Lee ; "but we will meet 
 
WOODSTOCK. 37S 
 
 again — A vessel is provided, and I have relays in more places than 
 one — we go off from the coast of Sussex ; and I am to get a letter 
 at , acquainting me precisely with the spot." 
 
 " Wherefore not go off instantly ? " enquired the Doctor. 
 
 " The horses would fail us," replied Albert — " they liave been 
 hard ridden to-day." 
 
 " Adieu," said Rochecliffe, " I must to my task — Do you take 
 rest and repose for yours. — To conceal a slaughtered body, and con- 
 vey on the same night a king from danger and captivity, are two 
 feats which have fallen to few folks save myself ; but let me not, 
 while putting on my harness, boast myself as if I were taking it off 
 after a victory." So saying, he left the apartment, and muffling 
 himself in his cloak, went out into what was called the Wilderness. 
 
 The weather was a raw frost. The mist lay in partial wreaths 
 upon the lower grounds ; but the night, considering that the 
 heavenly bodies were in a great measure hidden by the haze, was 
 not extremely dark. Doctor Rochecliffe could not, however, dis- 
 tinguish the under-keeper, until he had hemmed once or twice, 
 when Joceline answered the signal by shewing a glimpse of light 
 from the dark lantern which he carried. Guided by this intimation 
 of his presence, the divine found him leaning against a buttress 
 which had once supported a terrace, now ruinous. He had a pick- 
 axe and shovel, together with a deer's hide hanging over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " What do you Want with the hide, Joceline," said Doctor Roche- 
 cliffe, " that you lumber it about with you on such an errand ?" 
 
 " Why, look you. Doctor," he answered, " it is as well to tell you 
 all about it. The man and I — he there — you know whom I mean 
 — ^had many years since a quarrel about this deer. For though we 
 were great friends, and Philip was sometimes- allowed by my 
 master's permission to help me in mine office, yet I knew, for all 
 that, Philip Hazeldine was sometimes a trespasser. The deer- 
 stealers were very bold at that time, it being just before the break- 
 ing out of the war, when men were becoming unsettled — And so it 
 chanced, that one day, in the Chase, I found two fellows, with their 
 faces blacked, and shirts over their clothes, carrying as prime a 
 buck between them as any was in the park. I was upon them in 
 the instant — one escaped, but I got hold of the other fellow, and 
 who should it prove to be but trusty Phil flazeldine ! Well, I 
 don't know whether it was right or wrong, but he was my old 
 friend and pot-companion, and I took his word for amendment in 
 future ; and he helped me to hang up the deer on a tree, and I came 
 back with a horse to carry him to the Lodge, and tell the knight 
 the story, all but Phil's name. But the rogues had been too clever 
 for me ; for they had flayed and dressed the deer, and quartered 
 
37S WOODSTOCK. 
 
 him, and carried him off, and left the hide and horns, with a 
 chime, saying 
 
 ' The haunch to thee. 
 
 The breast to me, 
 
 The hide and the horns for the keeper's fee.' 
 
 And this I knew for one of Phil's mad pranks, that he would play 
 in those days with any lad in the country. But I was so nettled, 
 that I made the deer's hide be curried and dressed by a tanner, and 
 swore that it should be his winding-sheet or mine ; and though I 
 had long repented my rash oath, yet now. Doctor, you see what it 
 has come to — though I forgot it, the devil did not." 
 
 " It was a very wrong thing to make a vow so sinful," said Roche- 
 cliffe ; " but it would have been greatly worse had you endeavoured 
 to keep it. Therefiare, I bid you cheer up," said the good divine ; 
 " for in this unhappy case, I could not have wished, after what I 
 have heard from Phcebe and yourself, that you should have kept 
 your hand still, though I may regret that the blow has proved 
 fatal. Nevertheless, thou hast done even that which was done 
 by the great and inspired legislator, when he beheld an Egyptian 
 tyrannizing over a Hebrew, saving that, in the case present, it was 
 a female, when, says the Septuagint, Percussum Egyptium abscondit 
 sabuloj the meaning whereof I will explain to you another time. 
 Wherefore, I exhort you, not to grieve beyond measure ; for, 
 although this circumstance is unhappy in time and place, yet, 
 from what Phcebe hath informed me [of yonder wretch's opinions, 
 it is much to be regretted that his brains had not been beaten out 
 in his cradle, rather than that he had grown up to be one of those 
 Grindlestonians, or Muggletonians, in whom is the perfection of 
 every foul and blasphemous heresy, united with such an universal 
 practice of hypocritical assentation, as would deceive their master, 
 even Satan himself." 
 
 " Nevertheless, sir," said the forester, " I hope you will bestow 
 some of the service of the church on this poor man, as it was his 
 last wish, naming you, sir, at the same time ; and unless this were 
 d6ne, I should scarce dare to walk out in the dark again, for my 
 whole life." 
 
 "Thou art a silly fellow — but if," continued the Doctor, "he 
 named me as he departed, and desired the last rites of the church, 
 there was, it may be, a turning from evil and a seeking to good 
 even in his last moments ; and if Heaven granted him grace to 
 form a prayer so fitting, wherefore should man refuse it ? All I 
 fear is the briefness of time." 
 
 " Nay, your reverence may cut the service somewhat short," said 
 Joceline ; " assuredly he does not deserve the whole of it ; only if 
 
WOOnSTOCK. 377 
 
 something were not to be done, I believe I should flee the country. 
 They were his last words ; and methinks he sent Bevis with his 
 glove to put me in mind of them." 
 
 " Out, fool ! — Do you think," said the Doctor, "dead men send 
 gauntlets to the living, like knights in a romance ; or, if so, would 
 they choose dogs to carry their challenges ? I tell thee, fool, the 
 cause was natural enough. Bevis, questing about, found the body, 
 and brought the glove to you to intimate where it was lying, and to 
 require assistance ; for such is the high instinct of these animals 
 towards one in peril." 
 
 " Nay, if you think so, Doctor," said Joceline — ''and, doubtless, 
 I must say, Bevis took an interest in the man — if indeed it was not 
 something worse in the shape of Bevis, for methought his eyes 
 looked wild and fiery, as if he would have spoken." 
 
 As he talked thus, Joceline rather hung back, and, in doing so, 
 displeased the Doctor, who exclaimed, " Come along, thou lazy 
 laggard. — Art thou a soldier, and a brave one, and so much afraid 
 of a dead man?— Thou hast killed men in battle, and in chase, I 
 warrant thee." 
 
 " Ay, but their backs were to me," said Joceline — " I never saw 
 one of them cast back his head, and glare at me as yonder fellow 
 did, his eye retaining a glance of hatred, mixed with terror and 
 reproach, till it became fixed like a jelly. And were you not with 
 me, and my master's concerns, and something else, very deeply at 
 stake, I promise you I would not again look at him for all 
 Woodstock." 
 
 " You must, though," said the Doctor, suddenly pausing, — "for 
 here is the place where he lies ! Come hither deep into the copse — 
 take care of stumbling. Here is a place just fitting, and we will 
 draw the briers over the grave afterwards." 
 
 As the Doctor thus issued his directions, he assisted also in the 
 execution of them ; and while his attendant laboured to dig a 
 shallow and misshapen grave, a task which the state of the soil, per- 
 plexed with roots, and hardened by the influence of the frost, 
 rendered very difficult, the divine read a few passages out of the 
 funeral service, partly in order to appease the superstitious terrors 
 of Joceline, and partly because he held it matter of conscience not 
 to deny the church's rites to one who had requested their aid in 
 extremity. 
 
378 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Case ye, case ye, on with your vizards. 
 
 Henry IV. 
 
 The company whom we had left in Victor Lee's parlour were 
 about to separate for the night, and had risen to take a formal leave 
 of each other, when a tap was heard at the hall-door. Albert, the 
 vidette of the party, hastened to open it, enjoining, as he left the 
 room, the rest to remain quiet, until he had ascertained the cause 
 of the knocking. When he gained the portal, he called to know 
 who was there, and what they wanted at so late an hour. 
 
 " It is only me," answered a treble voice. 
 
 " And what is your name, my little fellow ? '' said Albert. 
 
 " Spitfire, sir," replied the voice without. 
 
 " Spitfire .' " said Albert. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the voice ; " all the world calls me so, and 
 Colonel Everard himself. , But my name is Spittal for all that." 
 
 " Colonel Everard ! arrive you from him ? " demanded young 
 Lee. 
 
 " No, sir ; I come, sir, from Roger Wildrake, esquire, of Squattle- 
 sea-mere, if it like you," said the boy ; " and I have brought a token 
 to Mistress Lee, which I am to give into her own hands, if you 
 would but open the door, sir, and let me in — but I can do nothing^ 
 with a three-inch board between us." 
 
 " It is some freak of that drunken rakehell," said Albert, in a low 
 voice, to his sister, who had crept out after him on tiptoe. 
 
 " Yet, let us not be hasty in concluding so," said the young lady ; 
 " at this moment the least trifle may be of consequence.— -What 
 token has Master Wildrake sent me, my little boy ?" 
 
 " Nay, nothing very valuable, neither," replied the boy ; " but he 
 was so anxious you should get it, that he put me out of the window 
 as one would chuck out a kitten, that I might not be stopped by 
 the soldiers." 
 
 " Hear you ? " said Alice to her brother ; " undo the gate, for 
 God's sake." 
 
 Her brother, to whom her feelings of suspicion were now suffi- 
 ciently communicated, opened the gate in haste, and admitted the 
 boy, whose appearance, not much dissimilar to that of a skinned 
 rabbit in a livery, or a monkey at a fair, would at another time have 
 furnished them with amusement. The urchin messenger entered 
 the hall, making several odd bows and congfe, and delivered the 
 woodcock's feather* with much ceremony to the young lady, 
 assuring her it was the prize she had won upon a wager about 
 hawking. 
 
WOODSTOClf. zit) 
 
 " I prithee, my little man," said Albert, " was your master drunk 
 or sober, when he sent thee all this way with a feather at this time 
 of night?" 
 
 " With reverence, sir," said the boy, " he was what he calls sober, 
 and what I would call concerned in liquor for any other person." 
 
 "Curse on the drunken coxcomb !" said Albert. — "There is a 
 tester for thee, boy, and tell thy master to break his jests on suit- 
 able persons, and at fitting times." 
 
 " Stay yet a minute," exclaimed Alice ; " we must not go too 
 fast — this craves wary walking." 
 
 "A feather," said Albert ; " all this work about a feather \ Why, 
 Doctor Rochecliffe, who can suck intelligence out of every trifle as 
 a magpie would suck an egg, could make nothing of this." 
 
 " Let us try what we can do without him then," said Alice. Then 
 addressing herself to the boy, — " So there are strangers at your 
 master's ? " 
 
 " At Colonel Everard's, madam, which is the same thing," said 
 Spitfire." 
 
 " And what manner of strangers," said Alice ; " guests, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Ay, mistress," said the boy, " a sort of guests that make them- 
 selves welcome wherever they come, if they meet not a welcome 
 from their landlord — soldiers, madam." 
 
 "The men that have been long lying at Woodstock?" said 
 Albert. 
 
 " No, sir," said Spitfire, " new comers, with gallant buff-coats 
 and steel breastplates ; and their commander — your honour and 
 your ladyship never saw such a man ! — at least I am sure Bill 
 Spitfire never did." 
 
 " Was he tall or short ? " said Albert, now much alarmed. 
 
 " Neither one nor other," said the boy ; " stout made, with 
 slouching shoulders ; a nose large, and a face one would not like 
 to say No to. He had several officers with him. I saw him but 
 for a moment, but I shall never forget him while I live." 
 
 " You are right," said Albert Lee to his sister, pulling her to one 
 side, " quite right — the Archfiend himself is upon us ! " 
 
 " And the feather," said Alice, whom fear had rendered appre- 
 hensive of slight tokens, " means flight — and a woodcock is a bird 
 of passage." 
 
 " You have hit it," said her brother ; " but the time has taken us 
 cruelly short. Give the boy a trifle more — nothing that can excite 
 suspicion, and dismiss him. I must summon Rochecliffe and 
 Joceline." 
 
 He went accordingly, but, unable to find those he sought, he 
 returned with hasty steps to the parlour, where, in his character of 
 
330 WOODSTOCK.: 
 
 Louis, the page was exerting himself to detain the old knight, who, 
 while laughing at the tales he told him, was anxious to go to see what 
 was passing in the hall. 
 
 " What is the matter, Albert ? " said the old man ; " who calls at 
 the Lodge at so undue an hour, and wherefore is the hall-door 
 opened to them ? I will not have my rules, and the regulations 
 laid down for keeping this house, broken through, because I am old 
 and poor. Why answer you not ? why keep a chattering with 
 Louis Kerneguy, and neither of you all the while minding what I 
 say ? — Daughter Alice, have you sense and civility enough to tell 
 me, what or who it is that is admitted here contrary to my general 
 orders ? " 
 
 '' No one, sir," replied Alice ; " a boy brought a message, which 
 I fear is an alarming one." 
 
 " There is only fear, sir," said Albert, stepping forward, " that 
 whereas we thought to have stayed with you till to-morrow, we 
 must now take farewell of you to-night." 
 
 " Not so, brother," said Alice, " you must stay and aid the defence 
 here — if you and Master Kerneguy are both missed, the pursuit 
 will be instant, and probably successful ; but if you stay, the 
 hiding-places about this house will take some time to search. You 
 can change coats with Kerneguy too." 
 
 " Right, noble wench," said Albert ; most excellent — yes — Louis 
 — I remain as Kerneguy, you fly as young Master Lee." 
 
 " I cannot see the justice of that," said Charles. 
 
 " Nor I neither," said the knight, interfering. " Men come and 
 go, lay schemes, and alter them, in my house, without deigning to 
 consult me ! And who is Master Kerneguy, or what is he to me, 
 that my son must stay and take the chance of mischief, and this 
 your Scotch page is to escape in his dress ? I will have no such 
 contrivance carried into effect, though it were the finest cobweb that 
 was ever woven in Doctor Rochecliffe's brains. — I wish you no ill, 
 Louis ; thou art a lively boy ; but I have been somewhat too 
 lightly treated in this, man." 
 
 " I am fully of your opinion. Sir Henry," replied the person whom 
 he addressed. "You have been, indeed, repaid for your hospitality 
 by want of that confidence, which could never have been so justly 
 reposed. But the moment is come, when I must say, in a word, I 
 am that unfortunate Charles Stewart, whose lot it has been to 
 become the cause of ruin to his best friends, and whose present 
 residence in your family threatens to bring destruction to you, and 
 all around you." 
 
 " Master Louis Kerneguy," said the knight very angrily, " I will 
 teach you to choose the subjects of your mirth better wh en you 
 address them to me ; and, moreover, very httle provocation would 
 
WOODSTOCK. 3S1 
 
 make me desire to have an ounce or two of that malapert blood 
 from you." 
 
 " Be still, sir, for Godsake ! " said Albert to his father. " This 
 is indeed THE King ; and such is the danger of his person, that 
 every moment we waste may bring round a fatal catastrophe." 
 
 " Good God ! " said the father, clasping his hands together, and 
 about to drop on his knees, " has my earnest wish been accom- 
 plished ! and is it in such a manner as to make me pray it had 
 never taken place ! " 
 
 He then attempted to bend his knee to the King — kissed his 
 hand, while large tears trickled from his eyes — then said, " Pardon, 
 my Lord — your Majesty, I mean — permit me to sit in your presence 
 but one instant till my blood beats more freely, and then " 
 
 Charles raised his ancient and faithful subject from the ground; 
 and even in that moment of fear and anxiety and danger, insisted 
 on leading him to his seat, upon which he sunk in apparent ex- 
 haustion, his head drooping upon his long white beard, and 
 big unconscious tears mingling with its silver hairs. Alice and 
 Albert remained with the King, arguing and urging his instant 
 departure. 
 
 "The horses are at the underkeeper's hut," said Albert, "and 
 the relays only eighteen or twenty miles off. If the horses can but 
 carry you so far " 
 
 "Will you not rather," interrupted Alice, "trust to the conceal- 
 ments of this place, so numerous > and so well tried — Rochecliffe's 
 apartments, and the yet farther places of secrecy ? " 
 
 " Alas ! " said Albert, " I know them only by name. My father 
 was sworn to confide them to but one man, and he had chosen 
 Rochecliffe." 
 
 " I prefer taking the field to any hiding-hole in England," said 
 the King. " Could I-but find my way to this hut where the horses 
 are, I would try what arguments whip and spur could use to get 
 them to the rendezvous, where I am to meet Sir Thomas Acland 
 and fresh cattle. Come with me. Colonel Lee, and let us run for 
 it. The roundheads have beat us in battle ; but if it come to a 
 walk or a race, I think I can show which has the best mettle." 
 
 " But then," said Albert, " we lose all the time which may other- 
 wise be gained by the defence of this house — leaving none here but 
 my poor father, incapable from his state of doing any thing ; and 
 you will be instantly pursued by fresh horses, while ours are unfit 
 for the road. — Oh, where is the villain Joceline ! " 
 
 " What can have become of Doctor Rochecliffe ? " said Alice ; 
 " he that is so ready with advice — where can they be gone ? Oh, 
 if my father could but rouse himself ! " 
 
 " Your father is roused," said Sir Henry, rising and stepping up 
 
382 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 to them with all the energy of full manhood in his countenance and 
 motions — " I did but gather my thoughts — for when did there fail a 
 Lee when his King needed counsel or aid ? " He then began to 
 speak, with the ready and distinct utterance of a general at the 
 head of an army, ordering every motion for attack and defence — 
 unmoved himself, and his own energy compelling obedience, and 
 that cheerful obedience, from all who heard him. " Daughter," he 
 said, " beat up Dame Jellicot — Let Phcebe rise, if she were dying, 
 and secure doors and windows." 
 
 " That hath been done regularly since — we have been thus far 
 honoured," said his daughter, looking at the King ; — " yet, let them 
 go through the chambers once more." And Alice retired to give 
 the orders, and presently returned. 
 
 The old knight proceeded, in the same decided tone of prompti- 
 tude and dispatch — " Which is your first stage ? " 
 
 " Gray's — Rothebury, by Henley, where Sir Thomas Acland and 
 young KnoUes are to have horses in readiness," said Albert ; " but 
 how to get there with our weary cattle ! " 
 
 " Trust me for that," said the knight ; "and proceeding with the 
 same tone of authority — " Your Majesty must instantly to Joce- 
 line's lodge," he said, " there are your horses and your means of 
 flight. The secret places of this house, well managed, will keep 
 the rebel dogs in play two or three hours good — Rochecliffe is, I 
 fear, kidnapped, and his Independent hath betrayed him — ^Would 
 I had judged the villain better ! I would have struck him through 
 at one of our trials of fence, with an unbated weapon, as Will says 
 —But for your guide when on horseback, half a bowshot from Joce- 
 line's hut is that of old Martin the verdurer ; he is a score of years 
 older than I, but as fresh as an old oak — beat up his quarters, and 
 let him ride with you for death and life. He will guide you to your 
 relay,' for no fox that ever earthed in the Chase knows the country 
 so well for seven leagues around." 
 
 " Excellent, my dearest father, excellent," said Albert j " I had 
 forgot Martin the verdurer." 
 
 " Young men forget all," answered the knight—" Alas, that the 
 limbs should fail, when the head which can best direct them— is come 
 perhaps to its wisest ! " 
 
 " But the tired horses," said the King — " could we not get fresh 
 cattle?" 
 
 " Impossible at this time of night," answered Sir Henry ; " but 
 tired horses may do much with care and looking to." He went 
 hastily to the cabinet which stood in one of the oriel windows, 
 and searched for something in the drawers, pulling out one after 
 another. 
 
 " We lose time, father," said Albert, afraid that the intelligence 
 
WOODSTOCK. 383 
 
 and energy which the old man displayed had been but a temporary 
 flash of the lamp, which was about to relapse into evening twi- 
 light. 
 
 " Go to, sir Boy," said his father, sharply ; " is it for thee to 
 tax me in this presence ! — Know, that were the whole roundheads 
 that are out of hell in present assemblage round Woodstock, I 
 could send away the Royal Hope of England by a way that the 
 wisest of them could never guess. — Alice, my love, ask no ques- 
 tions, but speed to the kitchen, and fetch a slice or two of beef, or 
 better of venison ; cut them long, and thin, d'ye mark me " 
 
 "This is wandering of the mind," said Albert apart to the 
 King. " We do him wrong, and your Majesty harm, to listen to 
 him." 
 
 " I think otherwise," said Alice, " and I know my father better 
 than you." So saying, she left the room, to fulfil her father's 
 orders. 
 
 " I think so, too," said Charles — "in Scotland, the Presbyterian 
 ministers, when thundering in their pulpits on my own sins and 
 those of my house, took the freedom to call me to my face Jero- 
 boam, or Rehoboam, or some such name, for following the advice 
 of young counsellors — Oddsfish, I will take that of the greybeard 
 for once, for never saw I more sharpness and decision than in the 
 countenance of that noble old man." 
 
 By this time Sir Henry had found what he was seeking. " In 
 this tin box," he said, " are six balls prepared of the most cordial 
 spices, mixed with medicaments of the choicest and most invi- 
 gorating quality. Given from hour to hour, wrapt in a covering of 
 good beef or venison, a horse of spirit will not flag for five hours, 
 at the speed of fifteen miles an hour ; and, please God, the fourth 
 of the time places your Majesty in safety — what remains may be 
 useful on some future occasion. Martin knows how to administer 
 them ; and Albert's weary cattle shall be ready, if walked gently 
 for ten minutes, in running to devour the way, as old Will says — 
 nay, waste not time in speech, your Majesty does me but too much 
 honour in using what is your own. — Now, see if the coast is clear, 
 Albert, and let his Majesty set off instantly — We will play our 
 parts but ill, if any take the chase after him for these two hours 
 that are between night and day — Change dresses, as you proposed, 
 in yonder .sleeping apartment — something may be made of that, 
 too." 
 
 " But, good Sir Henry," said the King, " your zeal overlooks a 
 principal point. I have, indeed, come from the under-keeper's hut 
 you mention to this place, but it was by daylight, and under guid- 
 ance — I shall never find my way thither in utter darkness, and 
 without a guide — I fear you must let the Colonel go with me •, and 
 
384 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 I entreat and command, you will put yourself to no trouble or risk 
 to defend the house —only make what delay you can in showing its 
 secret recesses." 
 
 " Rely on me, my royal and liege Sovereign," said Sir Henry ; 
 "but Albert must remain here, and Alice shall guide your Majesty 
 to Joceline's hut in his stead." 
 
 "Alice ! " said Charles, stepping back in surprise — " why, it is 
 dark night — and — and — and — " He glanced his eye towards Alice, 
 who had by this time returned to the apartment, and saw doubt and 
 apprehension in her look ; an intimation, that the reserve under 
 which he had placed his disposition for gallantry, since the morning 
 of the proposed duel, had not altogether effaced the recollection of 
 his previous conduct. He hastened to put a strong negative upon 
 a proposal which appeared so much to embarrass her, " It is im- 
 possible for me, indeed, Sir Henry, to use Ahce's services — I mu 
 walk as if bloodhounds were at my heels." 
 
 " Alice shall trip it," said the knight, " with any wench in Oxford- 
 shire ; and what would your Majesty's best speed avail, if you knew 
 not the way to go ? " 
 
 " Nay, nay. Sir Henry," continued the King, " the night is too 
 dark — we stay too long — I will find it myself." 
 
 " Lose no time in exchanging your dress with Albert," said Sir 
 Henry — " leave me to take care of the rest." 
 
 Charles, still inclined to expostulate, withdrew, however, into the 
 apartment where young Lee and he were to exchange clothes ; 
 while Sir Henry said to his daughter, " Get thee a cloak, wench, 
 and put on thy thickest shoes. Thou mightst have ridden Pixie, but 
 he is something spirited, and thou art a timid horsewoman, and 
 ever wert so — the only weakness I have known of thee." 
 
 " But, my father," said Alice, fixing her eyes very earnestly on 
 Sir Henry's face, " must I really go alone with the King ; might 
 not Phoebe, or Dame Jellicot, go with us ? " 
 
 " No — no — no," answered Sir Henry ; " Phcebe, the silly slut, 
 has, as you well know, been in fits to-night, and I take it, such a 
 walk as you must take is no charm for hysterics — Dame Jellicot 
 hobbles as slow as a broken-winded mare — besides, her deafness, 
 were there occasion to speak to her — No — no — you shall go alone 
 — and entitle yourself to have it written on your tomb, ' Here lies 
 she who saved the King ! ' — And, hark you, do not think of re- 
 turning to-night, but stay at the verdurer's with his niece — the 
 Park and Chase will shortly be filled with our enemies, and what- 
 ever chances here you will learn early enough in the morning." 
 
 " And what is it I may then learn ? " said Alice — " Alas, who can 
 tell ? — O, dearest father, let me stay and share your fate ! I will 
 pull off the timorous woman, and fight for the King, if it be neces- 
 
WOODSTOCK. sas 
 
 sary. But — I cannot think of becoming his only attendant in the 
 dark night, and through a road so lonely." 
 
 " How I " said the knight, raising his voice ; " do you bring 
 ceremonious and silly scruples forward, when the King's safety, nay, 
 his life, is at stake ? By this mark of loyalty," stroking his grey 
 beard as he spoke, " could I think thou wert other than becomes a 
 daughter of the house of Lee, I would "— — • 
 
 At this moment the King and Albert interrupted him by entering 
 the apartment, having exchanged dresses, and, from their stature, 
 bearing some resemblance to each other, though Charles was 
 evidently a plain, and Lee a handsome young man. Their com- 
 plexions were different ; but the difference could not be imme- 
 diately noticed, Albert having adopted a black peruke, and darkened 
 his eyebrows. 
 
 Albert Lee walked out to the front of the mansion, to give one 
 turn around the Lodge, in order to discover in what direction any 
 enemies might be approaching, that they might judge of the road 
 which it was safest for the royal fugitive to adopt. Meanwhile 
 the King, who was first in entering the apartment, had heard a 
 part of the angry answer which the old knight made to his 
 daughter, and was at no loss to guess the subject of his resent- 
 ment. He walked up to him with the dignity which he perfectly 
 knew to assume when he chose it. 
 
 " Sir Henry," he said, " it is our pleasure, nay our command, 
 that you forbear all exertion of paternal authority in this matter. 
 Mistress Alice, I am sure, must have good and strong reasons 
 for what she wishes ; and I should never pardon myself were she 
 placed in an unpleasant situation on my account. I am too well 
 acquainted with woods and wildernesses to fear losing my way 
 among my native oaks of Woodstock." 
 
 "Your Majesty shall not incur the danger," said Alice, her 
 temporary hesitation entirely removed by the calm, clear, and 
 candid manner in which Charles uttered these last words. " You 
 shall run no risk that I can prevent ; and the unhappy chances of 
 the times in which I have lived have from experience made the 
 forest as well known to me by night as by day. So, if you scorn 
 not my company, let us away instantly.'' 
 
 " If your company is given with good-will, I accept it with grati- 
 tude," replied the monarch. 
 
 " Willingly," she said, " most willingly. Let me be one of the 
 first to show that zeal and that confidence, which I trust all 
 England will one day emulously display in behalf of your 
 Majesty.'' 
 
 She uttered these words with an alacrity of spirit, and made the 
 trifling change of habit with a speed and dexterity, which showed 
 
 c c 
 
386 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 that aH her fears were gone, and that her heart was entirely in the 
 mission on which her father had dispatched her. 
 
 " All is safe around," said Albert Lee, showing himself ; " you 
 may take which passage you will— the most private is the best." 
 
 Charles went gracefully up to Sir Henry Lee ere his departure, 
 and took him by the hand. — " I am too proud to make profes- 
 sions," he said, "which I maybe too poor ever to realize. But while 
 Charles Stewart lives, he lives the obliged and indebted debtor of 
 Sir Henry Lee." 
 
 " Say not so, please your Majesty, say not so," exclaimed the old 
 man, struggling with the hysterical sobs which rose to his throat. 
 " He who might claim all, cannot become indebted by accepting 
 some small part." 
 
 " Farewell, good friend, farewell ! " said the King ; " think of 
 me as a son, a brother to Albert and to Alice, who are, I see, 
 already impatient. Give me a father's blessing, and let me be 
 gone." 
 
 " The God, through whoin kings reign, bless your Majesty," said 
 Sir Henry, kneeling and turning his reverend face and clasped 
 hands up to Heaven — " The Lord of Hosts bless you, and Save 
 your Majesty from your present dangers, and bring you in his own 
 good time to the safe possession of the crown that is your due I" 
 
 Charles received his blessing like that of a father, and Alice and 
 he departed on their journey. 
 
 As they left the apartment, the old knight let his hands sink 
 gently as he concluded this fervent ejaculation, his head sinking at 
 the same time. His son dared not disturb his meditation, yet 
 feared the strength of his feelings might overcome that of his 
 constitution, and that he might fall into a swoon. At length, he 
 ventured to approach and gradually touch him. The old knight 
 started to his feet, and was at once the same alert, active-minded, 
 forecasting director, which he had shown himself a little before. 
 
 " You are right, boy," he said, " we must be up and doing. They 
 lie, the roundheaded traitors, that call him dissolute and worth- 
 Jess I He hath feelings worthy the son of the blessed Martyr. 
 You saw, even in the extremity of danger, he would have perilled 
 his safety, rather than take Alice's guidance, when the silly wench 
 seemed in doubt about going. Profligacy is intensely selfish, and 
 thinks not of the feelings of others. But hast thou drawn bolt 
 and bar after them? I vow I scarce saw when they left the 
 hall." 
 
 "I let them out at the little postern," said the Colonel; "and 
 when I returned, I was afraid I had found you ill." 
 
 " J°y— j°y( only joy, Albert— I cannot allow a thought of doubt 
 to cross my breast. God will not desert the descendant of an 
 
WOODSTOCK. 387 
 
 liundred kings— the rightful Heir will not be given up to the 
 ruffians. There was a tear in his eye as he took leave of me — I 
 am sure of it. Wouldst not die for him, boy ? " 
 
 " If I lay my life down for him to-night," said Albert, " I would 
 only regret it, because I should not hear of his escape to-morrow." 
 
 " Well, let us to this gear," said the knight ; " think'st thou 
 that thou know'st enough of his manner, clad as thou art in his 
 dress, to induce the women to believe thee to be the page 
 Kerneguy ? " 
 
 " Umph," replied Albert, " it is not easy to bear out a personifi- 
 cation of the King, when women are in the case. But there is 
 only a very little light below, and I can try." 
 
 " Do so instantly," said his father j " the knaves will be here 
 presently." 
 
 Albert accordingly left the apartment, while the knight continued 
 — " If the women be actually persuaded that Kerneguy is still here, 
 it will add strength to my plot — the beagles will open on a false 
 scent, and the royal stag be safe in cover ere they regain the slot 
 of him. Then to draw them on from hiding-place to hiding- 
 place ! Why, the east will be grey before they have sought the 
 half of them ! — Yes, I will play at bob-cherry with them, hold the 
 bait to their nose which they are never to gorge upon ! I will 
 drag a trail for them which will take them some time to puzzle 
 out. — But at what cost do I do this?" continued the old knight, 
 interrupting his own joyous soliloquy — " Oh, Absalom, Absalom, my 
 son ! my son ! — But let him go ; he can but die as his fathers have 
 died, and in the cause for which they lived. But he comes — Hush ! 
 — Albert, hast thou succeeded ? hast thou taken royalty upon thee 
 so as to pass current ? " 
 
 " I have, sir," replied Albert ; " the women will swear that Louis 
 Kerneguy was in the house this very last minute." 
 
 " Right, for they are good and faithful creatures," said the 
 knight, " and would swear what was for his Majesty's safety at 
 any rate ; yet they will do it with more nature and effect, if the} 
 believe they are swearing truth. How didst thou impress the 
 deceit upon them ? " 
 
 " By a trifling adoption of the royal manner, sir, not worth men- 
 tioning." 
 
 " Out, rogue ! " replied the knight. " I fear the King's character 
 will suffer under your mummery." 
 
 " Umph," said Albert, muttering what he dared not utter aloud — 
 "were I to follow the example close up, I know whose character 
 would be in the greatest danger." 
 
 "Well, now we must adjust the defence of the outworks, the 
 signals, &c,, betwixt us both, and the best way to baffle the enemy 
 
 C c 2 
 
388 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 for the longest time possible." He then again had recourse to 
 the secret drawers of his cabinet, and pulled out a piece of parch- 
 ment, on which was a plan. "This," said he, "is a scheme of 
 the citadel, as I call it, which may hold out long enough after you 
 have been forced to evacuate the places of retreat you are already 
 acquainted with. The ranger was always sworn to keep this plan 
 secret, save from one person only, in case of sudden death — Let us 
 sit down and study it together." 
 
 They accordingly adjusted their measures in a manner which 
 will better show itself from what afterwards took place, than were 
 we to state the various schemes which they proposed, and provi- 
 sions made against events that did not arrive. 
 
 At length young Lee, armed and provided with some food and 
 liquor, took leave of his father, and went and shut himself up in 
 Victor Lee's apartment, from which was an opening to the labyrinth 
 of .private apartments, or hiding-places, that had served the asso- 
 ciates so well in the fantastic tricks which they had played off at 
 the expense of the Commissioners of the Commonwealth, 
 
 " I trust," said Sir Henry, sitting down by his desk, after having 
 taken a tender farewell of his son, " that Rocheclifife has not 
 blabbed out the secret of the plot to yonder fellow Tomkins, 
 who was not unlikely to pi ate of it out of school. — But here am I 
 seated — perhaps for the last time, with my Bible on the one hand, 
 and old Will on the other, prepared, thank God, to die as I have 
 -lived. — I marvel they come not yet," he said, after waiting for some 
 time—" I always thought the devil had a smarter spur to give his 
 agents, when they were upon his own special service." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 But, see, his face is black, and full of blood. 
 
 His eyeballs further out than when he lived, 
 
 Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 
 
 His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; 
 
 His hands abroad display'd, as one who grasp'd 
 
 And tugg'd for life, but was by strength subdued. 
 
 Henry VI. Part IT. 
 
 Had those whose unpleasant visit Sir Henry expected come 
 straight to the Lodge, instead of staying for three hours at Wood- 
 stock, they would have secured their prey. But the Familist, partly 
 to prevent the King's escape, partly to render himself of more im- 
 portance in the affair, had represented the party at the Lodge as 
 being constantly on the alert, and had therefore inculcated upon 
 Cromwell the necessity of his remaining quiet until he (Tomkins) 
 
WOODSTOCK. 389 
 
 should appear to give him notice that the household were retired to 
 rest. On this condition he undertook, not only to discover the 
 apartment in which the unfortunate Charles slept, but, if possible, 
 , to find some mode of fastening the door on the outside, so as to 
 render flight impossible. He had also promised to secure the key 
 of a postern, by which the soldiers might be admitted into the 
 house without exciting alarm. Nay, the matter might, by means of 
 his local knowledge, be managed, as he represented it, with such 
 security, that he would undertake to place his Excellency, or whom- 
 soever he might appoint for the service, by the side of Charles 
 Stewart's bed, ere he had slept off the last night's claret. Above all, 
 he had stated, that, from the style of the old house, there were 
 many passages and posterns which must be carefully guarded, 
 before the least alarm was caught by those within, otherwise the 
 success of the whole enterprise might be endangered. He had 
 therefore besought Cromwell to wait for him at the village, if he 
 found him not there on his arrival ; and assured him that the 
 marching and countermarching of soldiers was at present so com- 
 mon, that even if any news were carried to the Lodge that fresh 
 troops had arrived in the borough, so ordinary a circumstance 
 would not give them the least alarm. He recommended, that the 
 soldiers chosen for this service should be such as could be depended 
 upon — no fainters in spirit — none who turn back from Mount Gilead 
 for fear of the Amalekites, but men of war, accustomed to strike 
 with the sword, and to need no second blow. Finally, he repre- 
 sented, that it would be wisely done if the General should put 
 Pearson, or any other officer whom he could completely trust, into 
 the command of the detachment, and keep his own person, if he 
 should think it proper to attend, secret even from the soldiers. 
 
 All this man's counsels Cromwell had punctually followed. He 
 had travelled in the van of this detachment of one hundred picked 
 soldiers, whom he had selected for the service, men of dauntless 
 resolution, bred in a thousand dangers, and who were steeled 
 against all feelings of hesitation and compassion, by the deep and 
 gloomy fanaticism which was their chief principle of action— men 
 to whom, as their General, and no less as the chief among the 
 Elect, the commands of Oliver were like a commission from the 
 Deity, 
 
 Great and deep was the General's mortification at the unexpected 
 absence of the personage on whose agency he so confidently 
 reckoned, and many conjectures he formed as to the cause of such 
 mysterious conduct. Sometimes he thought Tomkins had been 
 overcome by liquor, a frailty to which Cromwell knew him to be 
 addicted ; and when he held this opinion, he discharged his wrath 
 in maledictions, which, of a different kind from the wild oaths and 
 
390 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 curses of the cavaliers, had yet in them as-much blasphemy, and 
 more determined malevolence. At other times he thought some 
 unexpected alarm, or perhaps some drunken cavalier revel, had 
 caused the family of Woodstock Lodge to make later hours than 
 usual. To this conjecture, which appeared the most probable of 
 any, his mind often recurred ; and it was the hope that Tomkins 
 would still appear at the rendezvous, which induced him to remain 
 at the borough, anxious to receive communication from his emis- 
 sary, and afraid of endangering the success of the enterprise by any 
 premature exertion on his own part. 
 
 In the meantime, Cromwell, finding it no longer possible to con- 
 ceal his personal presence, disposed of every thing so as to be ready 
 at a minute's notice. Half his soldiers he caused to dismount, and 
 had the horses put into quarters ; the other half were directed to 
 keep their horses saddled, and themselves ready to mount at an 
 instant's warning. The men were brought into the house by turns, 
 and had some refreshment, leaving a sufficient guard on the horses, 
 which was changed from time to time. 
 
 Thus Cromwell waited with no little uncertainty, often casting 
 an anxious eye upon Colonel Everard, who, he suspected, could, if 
 he chose it, well supply the place of his absent confidant. Everard 
 endured this calmly, with unaltered countenance, and brow neither 
 ruffled nor dejected. 
 
 Midnight at length tolled, and it became necessary to take some 
 decisive step. Tomkins might have been treacherous ; or, a sus- 
 picion which approached more near to the reality, his intrigue might 
 have been discovered, and he himself murdered, or kidnapped, by 
 the vengeful royalists. In a word, if any use was to be made of the 
 chance which fortune afforded of securiilg the most formidable 
 claimant of the supreme power, which he already aimed at, no 
 farther time was to be lost. He at length gave orders to Pearson 
 to get the men under arms — he directed him concerning the mode 
 of forming them, and that they should march with the utmost pos- 
 sible silence ; or, as it was given out in the orders, " Even as 
 Gideon marched in silence, when he went down against the camp 
 of the Midianites, with only Phurah his servant. Peradventure," 
 continued this strange document, " we too may learn of what 
 yonder Midianites have dreamed." 
 
 A single patrol, followed by a corporal and five steady, experienced 
 soldiers, formed the advanced guard of the party ; then followed 
 the main body. A rearguard of ten men guarded Everard and the 
 minister. Cromwell required the attendance of the former, as it 
 might be necessary to examine him, or confront him with others ; 
 and he carried Master Holdenough with him, because he might 
 escape if left behind, and perhaps raise some tumult in the village. 
 
WOODSTOCK 391 
 
 The Presbyterians, though they not only concurred with, but led 
 the way in the civil war, were at its conclusion highly dissatisfied 
 with the ascendency of the military sectaries, and not to be trusted 
 as cordial agents in any thing where their interest was concerned. 
 The infantry being disposed of as we have noticed, marched off 
 from the left of their line, Cromwell and Pearson, both on foot, 
 keeping at the head of the centre, or main body of the detachment. 
 They were all armed with petronels, short guns similar to the 
 modern carabine, and, like them, used by horsemen. They marched 
 in the most profound silence and with the utmost regularity, the 
 whole body moving like one man. 
 
 About one hundred yards behind the rearmost of the dismounted 
 party, came the troopers who remained on horseback ; and it seemed 
 as if even the irrational animals were sensible to Cromwell's orders, 
 for the horses did not neigh, and even appeared to place their feet 
 on the earth cautiously, and with less noise than usual. 
 
 Their leader, full of anxious thoughts, never spoke, save to en- 
 force by whispers his caution respecting silence, while the men, 
 surprised and delighted to find themselves under the command of 
 their renowned General, and destined, doubtless, for some secret 
 service of high import, used the utmost precaution in attending to 
 his reiterated orders. 
 
 They marched down the street of the little borough in the order 
 we have mentioned. Few of the townsmen were abroad ; and one 
 or two, who had protracted the orgies of the evening to that unusual 
 hour, were too happy to escape the notice of a strong party of 
 soldiers, who often acted in the character of police, to enquire about 
 their purpose for being under arms so late, or the route which they 
 were pursuing. 
 
 The external gate of the Chase had, ever since the party had 
 arrived at Woodstock, been strictly guarded by three file of troopers, 
 to cut off all communication between the Lodge and the town. 
 Spitfire, Wildrake's emissary, who had often been a-birdnesting, or 
 on similar mischievous excursions in the forest, had evaded these 
 men's vigilance by climbing over a breach, with which he was well 
 acquainted, in a different part of the wall. 
 
 Between this party and the advanced guard of Cromwell's de- 
 tachment, a whispered challenge was exchanged, according to the 
 rules of discipline. The infantry entered the Park, and were fol- 
 lowed by the cavalry, who were directed to avoid the hard road, 
 and ride as much as possible upon the turf which bordered on the 
 avenue. Here, too, an additional precaution was used, a file or two 
 of foot soldiers being detached to search the woods on either hand, 
 and make prisoner, or, in the event of resistance, put to death, any 
 whom they might find lurking there, under what pretence soever. 
 
392 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Meanwhile the weather began to show itself as propitious to 
 Cromwell, as he had found most incidents in the course of his suc- 
 cessful career. The grey mist, which had hitherto obscured every 
 thing, and rendered marching in the wood embarrassing and diffi- 
 cult, had now given way to the moon, which, after many efforts, at 
 length forced her way through the vapour, and hung her dim dull 
 cresset in the heavens, which she enlightened, as the dying lamp of 
 an anchorite does the cell in which he reposes. The party were in 
 sight of the front of the palace, when Holdenough whispered to 
 Everard, as they walked near each other — " See ye not — ^yonder 
 flutters the mysterious light in the turret of the incontinent Rosa- 
 mond ? This night will try whether the devil of the Sectaries or 
 the devil of the Malignants shall prove the stronger. O, sing 
 jubilee, for the kingdom of Satan is divided against itself ! " 
 
 Here the divine was interrupted by a non-commissioned officer, 
 who came hastily, yet with noiseless steps, to say, in a low stem 
 whisper — "Silence, prisoner in the rear — silence, on pain of 
 death." 
 
 A moment afterwards the whole party stopped their march, 
 the word halt being passed from one to another, and instantly 
 obeyed. 
 
 The cause of this interruption was the hasty return of one of 
 the flanking party to the main body, bringing news to Cromwell 
 that they had seen a light in the wood at some distance on the 
 left. 
 
 " What can it be? " said Cromwell, his low stern voic^ even in a 
 whisper, making itself distinctly heard. " Does it move, or is it 
 stationary ? " 
 
 " So far as we can judge, it moveth not," answered the trooper. 
 " Strange — there is no cottage near the spot where it is seen." 
 
 " So please your Excellency, it may be a device of Sathan," 
 said Corporal Humgudgeon, snuffling through his nose ; " he is 
 mighty powerful in these parts of late." 
 
 " So please your idiocj', thou art an ass," said Cromwell ; but, 
 instantly recollecting that the corporal had been one of the adjuta- 
 tors or tribunes of the common soldiers, and was therefore to be 
 treated with suitable respect, he said, " Nevertheless, if it be the 
 device of Satan, please it the Lord we will resist him, and the foul 
 slave shall fly from us. — Pearson," he said, resuming his soldier- 
 like brevity, "take four file, and see what is yonder— No— the 
 knaves may shrink from thee. Go thou straight to the Lodge- 
 invest it in the way we agreed, so that a bird shall not escape out 
 of it — form an outer and an inward ring of sentinels, but give no 
 alarm until I come. Should any attempt to escape, KILL them " — 
 He spoke that command with terrible emphasis. " Kill them on 
 
WOODSTOCK, 
 
 393 
 
 the spot," he repeated, " be they who or what they will. Better so 
 than trouble the Commonwealth with prisoners." 
 
 Pearson heard, and proceeded to obey his commander's orders. 
 
 Meanwhile, the future Protector disposed the small force which 
 remained with him in such a manner, that they should approach 
 from different points at once the light which excited his suspicions, 
 and gave them orders to creep as near to it as they could, taking 
 care not to lose each other's support, and to be ready to rush in at 
 the same moment, when he should give the sign, which was to be 
 a loud whistle. Anxious to ascertain the truth with his own eyes, 
 Cromwell, who had by instinct all the habits of military foresight, 
 which, in others, are the result of professional education and long 
 experience, advanced upon the object of his curiosity. He skulked 
 from tree to tree with the light step and prowling sagacity of an 
 Indian bushfighter ; and before any of his men had approached so 
 near as to descry them, he saw, by the lantern which was placed 
 on the ground, two men, who had been engaged in digging what 
 seemed to be an ill-made grave. Near them lay extended some- 
 thing wrapped in a deer's hide, which greatly resembled the dead 
 body of a man. They s^oke together in a low voice, yet so 
 that their dangerous auditor could perfectly overhear what they 
 said. 
 
 " It is done at last," said one ; " the worst and hardest labour I 
 ever did in my life. I believe there is no luck about me left. My 
 very arms feel as if they did not belong to me ; and, strange to 
 tell, toil as hard as I would, I could not gather warmth in my 
 limbs." 
 
 " I have warmed me enough," said Rochecliffe, breathing short 
 with fatigue. 
 
 " But the cold lies at my heart," said Joceline ; " I scarce hope 
 ever to be warm again. It is strange, and a charm seems to be on 
 us. Here have we been nigh two hours in doing what Diggen the 
 sexton would have done to better purpose in half a one." 
 
 "We are wretched spadesmen enough," answered Doctor Roche- 
 cliffe. " Every man to his tools — thou to thy bugle-horn, and I to 
 my papers in cipher. But do not be discouraged ; it is the frost 
 on the ground, and the number of roots, which rendered our task 
 difficult. And now, all due rites done to this unhappy man, and 
 having read over him the service of the church, valeat quantum, 
 let us lay him decently in this place of last repose ; there will be 
 small lack of him above ground. So cheer up thy head, man, like 
 a soldier as thou art ; we have read the service over his body ; and 
 should times permit it, we will have him removed to consecrated 
 ground, though he is all unworthy of such favour. Here, help me 
 to lay him in the earth- ; we will drag briers and thorns over the 
 
394 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 spot, when we have shovelled dust upon dust ; and do thou think 
 of this chance more manfully; and remember, thy secret is in 
 thine own keeping." 
 
 " I cannot answer for that," said Joceline. — " Methinks the very 
 night winds among the leaves will tell of what we have been doing 
 — methinks the trees themselves will say, ' there is a. dead corpse 
 lies among our roots.' Witnesses are soon found when blood hath 
 been spilled." 
 
 " They are so, and that right early," exclaimed Cromwell, start- 
 ing from the thicket, laying hold on Joceline, and putting a pistol 
 to his head. At any other period of his liife, the forester would, 
 even against the odds of numbers, have made a desperate resist- 
 ance ; but the horror he had felt at the slaughter of an old com- 
 panion, although in defence of his own life, together with fatigue 
 and surprise, had altogether unmanned him, and he was seized 
 as easily as a sheep is secured by the butcher. Doctor Rochecliffe 
 offered some resistance, but was presently secured by the soldiers 
 who pressed around him. 
 
 " Look, some of you," said Cromwell, " what corpse this is upon 
 whom these lewd sons of Belial have done a murder — Corporal 
 Grace-be-here Humgudgeon, see if thou knowest the face." 
 
 " I profess I do, even as I should do mine own in a mirror," 
 snuffled the corporal, after looking on the countenance of the dead 
 man by the help of the lantern. " Of a verity it is our trusty 
 brother in the faith, Joseph Tomkins." 
 
 " Tomkins ! " exclaimed Cromwell, springing forward and satisfy- 
 ing himself with a glance at the features of the corpse — " Tomkins ! 
 — and murdered, as the fracture of the temple intimates ! — dogs 
 that ye are, confess the truth — You have murdered him because 
 you have discovered his treachery — I should say his true spirit 
 towards the Commonwealth of England, and his hatred of those 
 complots in which you would have engaged his honest sim- 
 plicity." 
 
 " Ay," said Grace-be-here Humgudgeon, " and then to misuse 
 his dead body with your papistical doctrines, as if you had crammed 
 cold porridge into its cold mouth. I pray thee. General, let these 
 men's bonds be made strong." 
 
 "Forbear, corporal," said Cromwell; "our time presses. — 
 Friend, to you, whom I believe to be Doctor Anthony Rochecliffe 
 by name and surname, I have to give the choice of being hanged 
 at daybreak to-morrow, or making atonement for the murder of 
 one of the Lord's people, by teUing what thou knowest of the 
 secrets which are in yonder house." 
 
 " Truly, sir," replied Rochecliffe, " you found me but in my duty 
 as a clergyman, interring the dead ; and respecting answering your 
 
WOODSTOCK. 393 
 
 questions, I am determined myself, and do advise my fellow-sufferer 
 on this occasion " 
 
 " Remove him," said Cromwell ; " I know his stiffneckedness of 
 old, though I have made him plough in my furrow, when he thought 
 he was turning up his own swathe— Remove him to the rear, and 
 bring hither the other fellow. — Come thou here — this way — closer 
 —closer.— Corporal Grace-be-here, do thou keep thy hand upon the 
 belt with which he is bound. We must take care of our life for 
 the sake of this distracted country, though, lack-a-day, for its own 
 proper worth we could peril it for a pin's point. — Now, mark me, 
 fellow, choose betwixt buying thy life by a full confession, or being 
 tucked presently up to one of these old oaks— How likest thou 
 that?" 
 
 "Truly, master," answered the under-keeper, affecting more 
 rusticity than was natural to him, (for his frequent intercourse with 
 Sir Henry Lee had partly softened and polished his manners,) " I 
 think the oak is like to bear a lusty acorn — that is all." 
 
 " Dally not with me, friend," continued Oliver ; " I profess to 
 thee in sincerity I am no trifler. What guests have you seen at 
 yonder house called the Lodge ? " 
 
 " Many a brave guest in my day, I'se warrant ye, master," said 
 Joceline. "Ah, to see how the chimneys used to smoke some 
 twelve years back ! Ah, sir, a sniff of it would have dined a poor 
 man." 
 
 " Out, rascal ! " said the General, •' dost thou jeer me ? Tell me 
 at once v/hat guests have been of late in the Lodge — and look thee, 
 friend, be assured, that in rendering me this satisfaction, thou shalt 
 not only rescue thy neck from the halter, but render also an 
 acceptable service to the State, and one which I will see fittingly 
 rewarded. For, truly, I am not of those who would have the rain 
 fall only on the proud and stately plants, but rather would, so far 
 as my poor wishes and prayers are concerned, that it should ^Iso 
 fall upon the lowly and humble grass and corn, that the heart of 
 the husbandman may be rejoiced, and that as the cedar of Lebanon 
 waxes in its height, in its boughs, and in its roots, so may the 
 humble and lowly hyssop that groweth upon the walls flourish, and 
 — and, truly — Understand'st thou me, knave ?" 
 
 " Not entirely, if it please your honour," said Joceline ; " but it 
 sounds as if you were preaching a sermon, and has a marvellous 
 twang of doctrine with it." 
 
 " Then, in one word — thou knowest there is one Louis Kerneguy, 
 or Carnego, or some such name, in hiding at the Lodge yonder?" 
 
 " Nay, sir," replied the under-keeper, " there have been many 
 coming and going since Worcester-field ; and how should I know 
 who they are ? — my service is out of doors, I trow." 
 
396 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " A thousand pounds," said Cromwell, " do I tell down to thee, 
 if thou canst place that boy in my power." 
 
 "A thousand pounds is a marvellous matter, sir," said Joceline ; 
 " but I have more blood on my hand than I like already. I know 
 not how the price of life may thrive — and, scape or hang, I have no 
 mind to try." 
 
 " Away with him to the rear," said the General ; " and let him 
 not speak with his yokefellow yonder. — Fool that I am, to waste 
 time in expecting to get milk from mules. — Move on towards the 
 Lodge." 
 
 They moved with the same silence as formerly, notwithstanding 
 the difficulties which they encountered from being unacquainted 
 with the road and its various intricacies. At length they were 
 challenged, in a low voice, by one of their own sentinels, two 
 concentric circles of whom had been placed around the Lodge, so 
 close to each other, as to preclude the possibility of an individual 
 escaping from within. The outer guard was maintained partly by 
 horse upon the roads and open lawn, and where the ground was 
 broken and bushy, by infantry. The inner circle was guarded by 
 foot soldiers only. The whole were in the highest degree alert, 
 expecting some interesting and important consequences from the 
 unusual expedition on which they were engaged. 
 
 " Any news, Pearson ? " said the General to his aide-de-camp, who 
 came instantly to report to his superior. 
 
 He received for answer, " None." 
 
 Cromwell led his officer forward just opposite to the door of the 
 Lodge, and there paused betwixt the circles of guards, so that their 
 conversation could not be overhead. 
 
 He then pursued his enquiry, demanding — "Were there any 
 lights, any appearances of stirring — any attempt at sally — any 
 preparation for defence ? " 
 
 " All as silent as the valley of the shadow of death — Even as the 
 vale of Jehosaphat." 
 
 " Pshaw ! tell me not of Jehosaphat, Pearson," said Cromwell. 
 " These words are good for others, but not for thee. Speak plainly, 
 and like a blunt soldier as thou art. Each man hath his own mode 
 of speech ; and bluntness, not sanctity, is thine." 
 
 " Well then, nothing has been stirring," said Pearson. — " Yet 
 peradventure " 
 
 " Peradventure not me," said Cromwell, " or thou wilt tempt me 
 to knock thy teeth out. I ever distrust a man when he speaks after 
 another fashion from his own." 
 
 " Zounds ! let me speak to an end," answered Pearson, " and I 
 will speak in what language your Excellency will." 
 
 " Thy Zounds, friend," said Oliver, " showeth little of grace, but 
 
WOODSTOCK. 397 
 
 much of sincerity. Go to, then— thou knowest I love and trust thee. 
 Hast thou kept close watch ? It behoves us to know that, before 
 giving the alarm." 
 
 " On my soul," said Pearson, " I have watched as closely as a cat 
 at a mouse-hole. It is beyond possibility that any thing could have 
 eluded our vigilance, or even stirred within the house, without our 
 being aware of it." 
 
 " 'Tis well," said Cromwell ; "thy services shall not be forgotten, 
 Pearson. Thou canst not preach and pray, but thou canst obey 
 thine orders, Gilbert Pearson, and that may make amends." 
 
 " I thank your Excellency," replied Pearson ; " but I beg leave to 
 chime in with the humours of the times. A poor fellow hath no 
 right to hold himself singular." 
 
 He paused, expecting Cromwell's orders what next was to be 
 done, and, indeed, not a little surprised that the General's active 
 and prompt spirit had suffered him, during a moment so critical, to 
 cast away a thought upon a circumstance so trivial at his officer's 
 peculiar mode of expressing himself. He wondered still more, 
 when, by a brighter gleam of moonshine than he had yet enjoyed, 
 he observed that Cromwell was standing motionless, his hands 
 supported upon his sword, which he had taken out of the belt, and 
 his stern brows bent on the ground. He waited for some time im- 
 patiently, yet afraid to interfere, lest he should awaken this un- 
 wonted fit of ill-timed melancholy into anger and impatience. He 
 listened to the muttering sounds which escaped from the half- 
 opening lips of his principal, in which the words, " hard necessity," 
 which occurred more than once, were all of which the sense could 
 be distinguished. " My Lord General," at length he said, " time 
 flies." 
 
 " Peace, busy fiend, and urge me not ! " — said Cromwell. 
 " Think'st thou, like other fools, that I have made a paction with 
 the devil for success, and am bound to do my work within an 
 appointed hour, lest the spell should lose its force ? " 
 
 " I only think, my Lord General," said Pearson, " that Fortune 
 has put into your offer what you have long desired to make prize 
 of, and that you hesitate." 
 
 Cromwell sighed deeply as he answered, " Ah, Pearson, in this 
 troubled world, a man, who is called like me, to work great things 
 in Israel, had need to be, as the poets feign, a thing made of 
 hardened metal, immovable to feelings of human charities, im- 
 passible, resistless. Pearson, the world will hereafter, perchance, 
 think of me as being such a one as I have described, ' an iron man, 
 and made of iron mould '—Yet they wiU wrong my memory— my 
 heart is flesh, and my blood is mild as that of others. When I was 
 a sportsman, I have wept for the gallant heron that was struck 
 
398 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 down by my hawk, and sorrowed for the hare which lay screaming 
 under the jaws of my greyhound; and canst thou think it a hght 
 thing to me, that, the blood of this lad's father lying in some 
 measure* upon my head, I should now put in peril that of the son ! 
 They are of the kindly race of English sovereigns, and, doubtless, 
 are adored like to demigods by those of their own party, i am 
 called Parricide, Bloodthirsty Usurper, already, for shedding the 
 blood of one man, that the plague might be stayed — or as Achan 
 was slain that Israel might thereafter stand against the face of 
 their enemies. Nevertheless, who has spoke unto me graciously 
 since that high deed ? Those who acted in the matter with me are 
 willing that I should be the scapegoat of atonement — those who 
 looked on and helped not, bear themselves now as if they had been 
 borne down by violence ; and while I look that they should 
 shout applause on me, because of the victory of Worcester, whereof 
 the Lord had made me the poor instrument, they look aside to 
 say, ' Ha ! ha ! the Kingkiller, the Parricide — soon shall his place 
 be made desolate.'— Truly it is a great thing, Gilbert Pearson, to 
 be lifted above the multitude ; but when one feeleth that his 
 exaltation is rather hailed with hate and scorn than with love and 
 reverence — in sooth, it is still a hard matter for a mild, tender-con- 
 scienced, infirm spirit to bear — and God be my witness, that, 
 rather than do this new deed, I would shed my own best heart's- 
 blood in a pitched field, twenty against one." Here he fell into a 
 flood of tears, which he sometimes was wont to do. This extremity of 
 emotion was of a singular character. It was not actually the result 
 of penitence, and far less that of absolute hypocrisy, but arose 
 merely from the temperature of that remarkable man, whose deep 
 policy, and ardent enthusiasm, were intermingled with a strain of 
 hypochondriacal passion, which often led him to exhibit scenes of 
 this sort, though seldom, as now, when he was called to the 
 execution of great undertakings. 
 
 Pearson, well acquainted as he was with the peculiarities of his 
 General, was baffled and confounded by this fit of hesitation and 
 contrition, by which his enterprising spirit appeared to be so 
 suddenly paralysed. After a moment's silence, he said, with 
 some dryness of manner, " If this be the case, it is a pity your 
 Excellency came hither. Corporal Humgudgeon and I, the 
 greatest saint and greatest sinner in your army, had done the 
 deed, and divided the guilt and the honour betwixt us." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Cromwell, as if touched to the quick, " wouldst thou 
 take the prey from the lion ! " 
 
 " If the lion behaves like a village cur," said Pearson, boldly, 
 " who now barks and seems as if he would tear all to pieces, and 
 now flies from a raised stick or a stone, I know not why I should 
 
WOODSTOCK. 399 
 
 fear him. If Lambert had been here, there had been less speaking 
 and more action." 
 
 " Lambert ? What of Lambert ? " said Cromwell, very sharply. 
 
 " Only," said Pearson, " that I long since hesitated whether I 
 should follow your Excellency or him — and I begin to be uncertain 
 whether I have made the best choice, that's all." 
 
 " Lambert ! " exclaimed Cromwell, impatiently, yet softening his 
 voice lest he should be overheard descanting on the character of 
 his rival, — "What is Lambert.' — a tulip-fancying fellow, whom 
 nature intended for a Dutch gardener at Delft or Rotterdam. 
 Ungrateful as thou art, what could Lambert have done for 
 thfee?" 
 
 " He would not," answered Pearson, " have stood here hesitating 
 before a locked door, when fortune presented the means of 
 securing, by one blow, his own fortune, and that of all who 
 followed him." 
 
 " Thou art right, Gilbert Pearson," said Cromwell, grasping his 
 officer's hand, and strongly pressing it. " Be the half of this bold 
 attempt thine, whether the reckoning be on earth or heaven." 
 
 " Be the whole of it mine hereafter," said Pearson, hardily, " so 
 your Excellency have the advantage of it upon earth. Step back 
 to the rear till I force the door — there may be danger, if despair 
 induce them to make a desperate sally." 
 
 " And if they do sally, is there one of my Ironsides who fears 
 fire or steel less than myself?" said the General. " Let ten of the 
 most determined men follow us, two with halberds, two with petro- 
 nels, the others with pistols. — Let all their arms be loaded, and fire 
 without hesitation, if there is any attempt to resist or to sally forth 
 — Let Corporal Humgudgeon be with them, and do thou remain 
 here, and wateh against escape, as thou wouldst watch for thy 
 salvation." 
 
 The General then struck at the door with the hilt of his sword — 
 at first with a single blow or two, then with a reverberation of 
 strokes that made the ancient building ring again. This noisy 
 summons was repeated once or twice without producing the least 
 effect. 
 
 " What can this mean ? " said Cromwell ; " they cannot surely 
 have fled, and left the house empty ? " 
 
 "No," replied Pearson, "I will ensure you against that; but 
 your Excellency strikes so fiercely, you allow no time for an 
 answer. Hark ! I hear the baying of a hound, and the voice of 
 a man who is quieting him — Shall we break in at once, or hold 
 parley ? " 
 
 " I will speak to them first," said Cromwell—" Hollo ! who is 
 within there?" 
 
400 wuousrocK, 
 
 "Who is it enquires?" answered Sir Henry Lee from the in- 
 terior ; " or what want you here at this dead hour ? " 
 
 " We come by warrant of the Commonwealth of England," said 
 the General. 
 
 " I must see your warrant ere I undo either bolt or latch," replied 
 the knight ; " we are enough of us to make good the castle ; neither 
 I nor my fellows will deliver it up but upon good quarter and 
 conditions ; and we will not treat for these save in fair daylight." 
 
 " Since you will not yield to our right, you must try our might," 
 replied Cromwell. " Look to yourselves within, the door will be 
 in the midst of you in five minutes." 
 
 " Look to yourselves without," replied the stout-hearted Sir 
 Henry ; " we will pour our shot upon you, if you attempt the least 
 violence." 
 
 But, alas! while he assumed this bold language, his whole 
 garrison consisted of two poor terrified women ; for his son, in con- 
 formity with the plan which they had fixed upon, had withdrawn 
 from the hall into the secret recesses of the palace. 
 
 " What can they be doing now, sir ? " said Phoebe, hearing a noise 
 as it were of a carpenter turning screw-nails, mixed with a low buzz 
 of men talking. 
 
 " They are fixing a petard," said the knight, with great com- 
 posure. " I have noted thee for a clever wench, Phoebe, and I will 
 explain it to thee ; 'Tis a metal pot, shaped much like one of the 
 roguish knaves' own sugar-loaf hats, supposing it had narrower 
 brims — it is charged with some few pounds of fine gunpowder. 
 Then" 
 
 " Gracious ! we shall be all blown up ! " exclaimed Phoebe, — the 
 word gunpowder being the only one which she understood in the 
 knight's description. 
 
 " Not a bit, foolish girl. Pack old Dame Jellicot into the em- 
 brasure of yonder window," said the knight, " on that side of the 
 door, and we will ensconce ourselves on this, and we shall ha.ve 
 time to finish my explanation, for they have bungling engineers. 
 We had a clever French fellow at Newark would have done the 
 job in the firing of a pistol." 
 
 They had scarce got into the place of security when the knight 
 proceeded with his description.—" The petard being formed, as I 
 tell you, is secured with a thick and strong piece of plank, termed 
 the madrier, and the whole being suspended, or rather secured 
 against the gate to be forced— But thou mindest me not ?" 
 
 " How can I, Sir Henry," she said, " within reach of such a thing 
 as you speak of ?— O Lord ! I shall go mad with very terror— 
 we shall be crushed— blown up — in a few minutes 1 " 
 
 " We are secure from the explosion," replied the knight, gravely, 
 
WOODSTOCK. 401 
 
 "which will operate chiefly in a forward direction into the middle 
 of the chamber ; and from any fragments that may fly laterally, 
 we are sufficiently secured by this deep embrasure." 
 
 " But they will slay us when they enter," said Phcebe. 
 
 " They will give thee fair quarter, wench," said Sir Henry ; " and 
 if I do not bestow a brace of balls on that rogue engineer, it is 
 because I would not incur the penalty inflicted by martial law, 
 which condemns to the edge of the sword all persons who attempt 
 to defend an untenable post. Not that I think the rigour of the 
 law could reach Dame Jellicot or thyself, Phoebe, considering that 
 you carry no arms. If Alice had been here she might indeed have 
 done somewhat, for she can use a birding-piece." 
 
 Phoebe might have appealed to her own deeds of that day, as 
 more allied to feats of melie and battle, than any which her young 
 lady ever acted ; but she was in an agony of inexpressible terror, 
 expecting, from the knight's account of the petard, some dreadful 
 catastrophe, of what nature she did not justly understand, notwith- 
 standing his liberal communication on the subject. 
 
 " They are strangely awkward at it," said Sir Henry ; " little 
 Boutirlin would have blown the house up before now. — Ah ! he 
 is a fellow would take the earth like a rabbit — if he had been here, 
 never may I stir but he would have countermined them ere now, 
 and 
 
 "Tis sport to have the engineer 
 
 Hoist with his own petard.' 
 
 as our immortal Shakspeare has it." 
 
 " Oh, Lord, the poor mad old gentleman," thought Phoebe—" Oh, 
 sir, had you not better leave alone playbooks, and think of your 
 end ? " uttered she aloud, in sheer terror and vexation of spirit. 
 
 " If I had not madeup my mind to that many days since," answered 
 the knight, " I had not now met this hour with a free bosom. 
 
 ' As gentle and as jocund as to rest, 
 Go I to death — truth hath a quiet breast.' " 
 
 AS he spokOj a broad glare of light flashed from without through 
 the windows of the hall, and betwixt the strong iron stanchions witK 
 which they were secured — a broad discoloured light it was, which 
 shed a red and dusky illumination on the old armour and 
 weapons, as if it had been the reflection of a conflagration.- Phoebe 
 screamed aloud, and, forgetful of reverence in the moment of 
 passion, clung close to the knight's cloak and arm, while Dame 
 Jellicot, from her solitary niche, having the use of her eyes, though 
 bereft of her hearing, yelled like an owl when the moon breaks out 
 suddenly. 
 
 D D 
 
402 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "Take care, good Phoebe," said the knight ; "you will prevent 
 my using my weapon if you hang upon me thus.— The bungling 
 fools cannot fix their petard without the use of torches ! Now let 
 me take the advantage of this interval.— Remember what I told 
 thee, and how to put off time." 
 
 " Oh, Lord— ay, sir," said Phcebe, " I will say anything. Oh, 
 Lord, that it were but over !— Ah ! ah ! "—(two prolonged screams) 
 — " I hear something hissing like a serpent." 
 
 " It is the fusee, as we martiaUsts call it," replied the knight ; 
 " that is, Phoebe, the match which fires the petard, and which is 
 longer or shorter, according to the distance " 
 
 Here the knight's discourse was cut short by a dreadful explosion, 
 which, as he had foretold, shattered the door, strong as it was, to 
 pieces, and brought down the glass clattering from the windows, 
 with all the painted heroes and heroines who had been recorded on 
 that fragile place of memory for centuries. The women shrieked 
 incessantly, and were answered by the bellowing of Bevis, though 
 shut up at a distance from the scene of action. TheTcnight, shaking 
 Phoebe from him with difficulty, advanced into the hall to meet 
 those who rushed in, with torches lighted, and weapons prepared. 
 
 " Death to all who resist — life to those who surrender ! " ex- 
 claimed Cromwell, stamping with his foot. " Who commands this 
 garrison ? " 
 
 " Sir Henry Lee of Ditchley," answered the old knight, stepping 
 forward ; " who, having no other garrison than two weak women, 
 is compelled to submit to what he would wiUingly have resisted." 
 
 "Disarm the inveterate and malignant rebel," cried Oliver. 
 " Art thou not ashamed, sir, to detain me before the door of a house 
 which you had no force to defend ? Wearest thou so white a beard, 
 and knowest thou not, that to refuse surrendering an indefensible 
 post, by the martial law, deserves hanging ?" 
 
 " My beard and I," said Sir Henry,' " have settled that matter 
 between us, and kgree right cordially. It is better to run the risk 
 of being hanged, like honest men, than to give up our trust like 
 cowards and traitors." 
 
 " Ha ! say'st thou ? " said Cromwell ; " thou hast powerful 
 motives, I doubt not, for running thy head into a noose. But I wiU 
 speak with thee by and by. — Ho ! Pearson, Gilbert Pearson, take 
 this scroll — Take the elder woman with thee — Let her guide you to 
 the various places therein mentioned — Search every room therein 
 set down, and arrest, or slay upon the slightest resistance, whom- 
 soever you find there. Then note those places marked as com- 
 manding points for cutting off intercourse through the mansion — 
 the landing-places of the great staircase, the great gallery, and so 
 forth. Use the woman civilly. The plan annexed to the scroll 
 
WOODSTOCK. 403 
 
 will point out the posts, even if she prove stupid or refractory. 
 Meanwhile, the corporal, with a party, will bring the old man and 
 the girl there to some apartment — the parlour, I think, called Victor 
 Lee's, will do as well as another. We will then be out of this 
 stifling smell of gunpowder." 
 
 So saying, and without requiring any farther assistance or 
 guidance, he walked towards the apartment he had named. Sir 
 Henry had his own feelings, when he saw the unhesitating decision 
 with which the General led the way, and which seemed to intimate 
 a more complete acquaintance with the various localities of Wood- 
 stock than was consistent with his own present design, to engage 
 the Commonwealth party in a fruitless search through the intricacies 
 of the Lodge. 
 
 " I will now ask thee a few questions, old man,'' said the General, 
 when they had arrived in the room ; " and I warn thee, that hope 
 of pardon for thy many and persevering efforts against the Com- 
 monwealth, can be no otherwise merited than by the most direct 
 answers to the questions I am about to ask." 
 
 Sir Henry bowed. He would have spoken, but he felt his temper 
 rising high, and became afraid- it might be exhausted before the 
 part he had settled to play, in order to afford the King time for his 
 escape, should be brought to an end. 
 
 "What household have you had here, Sir Henry Lee, within 
 these few days — ^what guests — what visitors ? We know that your 
 means of housekeeping are not so profuse as usual, so the catalogue 
 cannot be burdensome to your memory." 
 
 "Far from it," rephed the knight, with unusual command of 
 temper ; " my daughter, and latterly my son, have been my guests ; 
 and I have had these females, and one Joceline Joliffe, to attend 
 upon us." 
 
 " I do not ask after the regular members of your household, but 
 after those who have been within your gates, either as guests, or as 
 malignant fugitives taking shelter ? " 
 
 " There may have been more of both kinds, sir, than I, if it 
 please your valour, am able to answer for," replied the knight. — 
 " I remember my kinsman Everard was here one morning — Also, I 
 bethink me, a follower of his, called Wildrake." 
 
 "Did you not also receive a young cavalier, called Louis 
 Garnegey ? " said Cromwell. 
 
 " I remember no such name, were I to hang for it," said the 
 knight. 
 
 " Kerneguy, or some such word," said the General ; " we will Jiot 
 quarrel for a sound." 
 
 " A Scotch lad, called Louis Kerneguy, was a guest of mine," said 
 Sir Henry ; " and left me this morning for Dorsetshire." 
 
 D D a 
 
404 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " So late ! " exclaimed Cromwell, stamping with his foot—" How 
 fate contrives to baffle us, even when she seems most favourable ! 
 —What direction did he take, old man ? " continued Cromwell — 
 " what horse did he ride — who went with him ? " 
 
 " My son went with him," replied the knight ; " he brought him 
 here as the son of a Scottish lord. — I pray you, sir, to be finished 
 with these questions ; for although I owe thee, as WiU Shakspeare 
 says, 
 
 ' Respect for thy great place, and let the devil 
 Be sometimes honour'd for his burning throne,' — 
 
 yet I feel my patience wearing thin." 
 
 Cromwell here whispered to the corporal, who in turn uttered 
 orders to two soldiers, who left the room. " Place the knight aside ; 
 we will now examine the servant damsel," said the General. — 
 " Dost thou know," said he to Phoebe, " of the presence of one 
 Louis Kerneguy, calling himself a Scotch page, who came here a 
 few days since ? " 
 
 " Surely, sir," she replied, " I cannot easily forget him ; and I 
 warrant no well-looking wench that comes in his way will be like to 
 forget him either." 
 
 " Aha," said Cromwell, " sayest thou so ? truly I believe the 
 woman will prove the truer witness — When did he leave this 
 house?" 
 
 " Nay, I know nothing of his movements, not I," said Phcebe ; 
 " I am only glad to keep out of his way. But if he have actually 
 gone hence, I am sure he was here some two hours since, for he 
 crossed me in the lower passage, between the hall and the 
 kitchen." 
 
 " How did you know it was he ? '' demanded Cromwell. 
 
 " By a rude enough token," said Phcebe. — " La, sir, you do ask 
 such questions ! " she added, hanging down her head. 
 
 Humgudgeon here interfered, taking upon himself the freedom 
 of a coadjutor. "Verily," he said, " if what the damsel is called to 
 speak upon hath aught unseemly, I crave your Excellency's per- 
 mission to withdraw, not desiring that my nightly meditations may 
 be disturbed with tales of such a nature." 
 
 " Nay, your honour," said Phoebe, " I scorn the old man's words, 
 in the way of seemliness or unseemliness either. Master Louis did 
 but snatch a kiss, that, is the truth of it, if it must be told." 
 
 Here Humgudgeon groaned deeply, while his Excellency avoided 
 laughing with some difficulty. " Thou hast given excellent tokens, 
 Phoebe," he said ; " and if they be true, as I think they seem to be, 
 thou shalt not lack thy reward. — And here comes our spy from the 
 stables." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 40s 
 
 " There are not the least signs," said the trooper, " that horses 
 have been in the stables for a month — there is no litter in the stalls, 
 no hay in the racks, the corn-binns are empty, and the mangers are 
 full of cobwebs." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the old knight, " I have seen when I kept twenty 
 good horses in these stalls, with many a groom and stable-boy to 
 attend them." 
 
 " In the meanwhile," said Cromwell, " their present state tells 
 little for the truth of your own story, that there were horses to-day, 
 on which this Kerneguy and your son fled from justice." 
 
 " I did not say that the horses were kept there," said the knight. 
 " I have horses and stables elsewhere." 
 
 " Fie, fie, for shame, for shame ! " said the General ; " can a 
 white-bearded man, I ask it once more, be a false witness ? " 
 
 " Faith, sir," said Sir Henry Lee, " it is a thriving trade, and I 
 wonder not that you who live on it are so severe in prosecuting 
 interlopers. But it is the times, and those who rule the times, that 
 make greybeards deceivers." 
 
 " Thou art facetious, friend, as well as daring, in thy malignancy," 
 said Cromwell ; " but credit me, I will cry quittance with you ere I 
 am done. Whereunto lead these doors ? " 
 
 " To bedrooms," answered the knight. 
 
 " Bedrooms ! only to bedrooms ? " said the Republican General, 
 in a voice which indicated, such was the internal occupation of his 
 thoughts, that he had not fully understood the answer. 
 
 " Lord, sir," said the knight, " why should you make it so strange? 
 I say these doors lead to bedrooms^to places where honest men 
 sleep, and rogues lie awake." 
 
 " You are running up a farther account. Sir Henry," said the 
 General ; " but we will balance it once and for all." 
 
 During the whole of the scene, Cromwell, whatever might be the 
 internal uncertainty of his mind, maintained the most strict tem- 
 perance in language and manner, just as if he had no farther 
 interest in what was passing, than as a military man employed in 
 discharging the duty enjoined him by his superiors. But the 
 restraint upon his passion was but 
 
 " The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below." * 
 
 The course of his resolution was hurried on even more forcibly, 
 because no violence of expression attended or announced its cur- 
 rent. He threw himself into a chair, with a countenance that indi- 
 cated no indecision of mind, but a determination which awaited 
 only the signal for action. Meanwhile the knight, as if resolved in 
 nothing to forego the privileges of his rank and place, sat himself 
 down in turn, and putting on his hat which lay on a table, regarded 
 
4o6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 the General with a calm look of fearless indifference. The soldiers 
 stood around, some holding the torches, which illuminated the 
 apartment with a lurid and sombre glare of light, the others resting 
 upon their weapons. Phoebe, with her hands folded, her eyes turned 
 upwards till the pupils were scarce visible, and every shade of colour 
 banished from her ruddy cheek, stood like one in immediate appre- 
 hension of the sentence of death being pronounced, and instant 
 execution commanded. 
 
 Heavy steps were at last heard, and Pearson and some of the 
 soldiers returned. This seemed to be what Cromwell waited for. 
 He started up, and asked hastily, "Any news, Pearson? any 
 prisoners— any malignants slain in thy defence ? " 
 
 " None, so please your Excellency," answered the officer. 
 
 " And are thy sentinels all carefully placed, as Tomkins' scroll 
 • gave direction, and with fitting orders ? " 
 
 " With the most deliberate care," said Pearson. 
 
 " Art thou very sure," said Cromwell, pulling him a little to one 
 side, " that this is all well, and duly cared for ? Bethink thee, that 
 when we engage ourselves in the private communications, all will 
 be lost should the party wc look for have the means of dogging us 
 by an escape into the more open rooms, and from thence perhaps 
 into the forest." 
 
 " My Lord General," answered Pearson, " if placing the guards 
 on the places pointed out in this scroll be sufficient, with the 
 strictest orders, to stop, and, if necessary, to stab or shoot, whoever 
 crosses their post, such orders are given to men who will not fail to 
 execute them. If more is necessary, your Excellency has only to 
 speak." 
 
 " No— no — no, Pearson," said the General, " thou hast done well. 
 — This night over, and let it end but as we hope, thy reward shall 
 not be awanting. — And now to business. — Sir Henry Lee, undo me 
 the secret spring of yonder picture of your ancestor — Nay, spare 
 yourself the trouble and guilt of falsehood or equivocation, and, I 
 say, undo me that spring presently." 
 
 " When I acknowledge you for my master, and wear your livery, 
 I may obey your commands," answered the knight ; " even then I 
 would need first to understand them." 
 
 "Wench," said Cromwell, addressing Phoebe, "go thou undo 
 .the spring— you could do it fast enough when you aided at the 
 gambols of the demons of Woodstock, and terrified even Mark 
 Everard, who, I judged, had more sense." 
 
 " Oh Lord, sir, what shall I do ? " said Phcebe, looking to the 
 knight ; " they know all about it. What shall I do ? " 
 
 " For thy life, hold out to the last, wench ! Every minute is worth 
 a million." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 407 
 
 " Ha ! heard you that, Pearson ? " said Cromwell to the officer ; 
 then, stamping with his foot, he added, " Undo the spring, or I will 
 else use levers and wrenching-irons — Or, ha ! — another petard were 
 well bestowed — Call the engineer ! " 
 
 " Oh Lord, sir," cried Phoebe, " I shall never live another peter 
 — I will open the spring." 
 
 " Do as thou wilt," said Sir Henry ; " it shall profit them but 
 little." 
 
 Whether from real agitation, or from a desire to gain time, 
 Phoebe was some minutes ere she could get the spring to open ; it 
 was indeed secured with art, and the machinery on which it acted 
 was concealed in the frame of the portrait. The whole, when 
 fastened, appeared quite motionless, and betrayed, as when ex- 
 amined by Colonel Everard, no external mark of its being possible 
 to remove it. It was now withdrawn, however, and showed a nar- 
 row recess, with steps which ascended on one side into the thick- 
 ness of the wall. Cromwell was now like a greyhound slipped from 
 the leash with the prey in full view. — " Up," he cried, " Pearson, 
 thou art swifter than I — Up thou next, Corporal." With more 
 agility than could have been expected from his person or years, 
 which were past the meridian of life, and exclaiming, " Before, those 
 with the torches ! " he followed the party, like an eager huntsman 
 in the rear of his hounds, to encourage at once and direct them, as 
 they penetrated into the labyrinth described by Doctor Rochecliffe 
 in the " Wonders of Woodstock." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The King, therefore, for his defence 
 
 Against the furious Queen, 
 At Woodstock builded such a bower, 
 
 As never yet was seen. 
 Most curiously that bower was built, 
 
 Of stone and timber strong ; 
 An hundred and fifty doors 
 
 Did to this bower belong : 
 And they so cunningly contrived, 
 
 With turnings round about. 
 That none but with a clew of thread 
 
 Could enter in or out. 
 
 Ballad of Fair Rosamond. 
 
 The tradition of the country, as well as some historical evidence, 
 confirmed the opinion that there existed, within the old Royal 
 Lodge at Woodstock, a labyrinth, or connected series of subter- 
 
4o8 WOODSTOCK- 
 
 ranean passages, built chiefly by Henry II., for the security of his 
 mistress, Rosamond Clifford, from the jealousy of his Queen, the 
 celebrated Eleanor. Doctor Rochecliffe, indeed, in one of those 
 fits of contradiction with which antiquaries are sometimes seized, 
 was bold enough to dispute the alleged purpose of the perplexed 
 maze of rooms and passages, with which the walls oi the ancient 
 palace were perforated ; but the fact was undeniable, that in raising 
 the fabric, some Norman architect had exerted the utmost of the 
 complicated art which they have often shown elsewhere, in creating 
 secret passages, and chambers of retreat and concealment. There 
 were stairs, which were ascended merely, as it seemed, for the pur- 
 pose of descending again — passages, which, after turning and 
 winding for a considerable way, returned to the place where they 
 set out — there were trapdoors and hatchways, panels and port- 
 cullises. Although Oliver was assisted by a sort of ground-plan, 
 made out and transmitted by Joseph Tomkins, whose former em- 
 ployment in Doctor Rochecliffe's service* had made him fully 
 acquainted with the place, it was found imperfect ; and, moreover, 
 the most serious obstacles to their progress occurred in the shape 
 of strong doors, party-walls, and iron gates— so that the party 
 blundered on in the dark, uncertain whether they were not going 
 farther from, rather than approaching, the extremity of the laby- 
 rinth. They were obliged to send for mechanics, with sledge- 
 hammers and other instruments, to force one or two of those doors, 
 which resisted all other means of undoing them. Labouring along 
 in these dusky passages, where, from time to time, they were like to 
 be choked by the dust which their acts of violence excited, the 
 soldiers were obliged to be relieved oftener than once, and the 
 bulky Corporal Grace-be-here himself puffed and blew like a 
 grampus that has got into shoal water. Cromwell alone continued, 
 with unabated zeal, to push on his researches— to encourage the 
 soldiers, by the exhortations which they best understood, against 
 fainting for lack of faith — and to secure, by sentinels at proper 
 places, possession of the ground which they had already explored. 
 His acute and observing eye detected, with a sneering smile, the 
 cordage and machinery by which the bed of poor Desborough had 
 been inverted, and several remains of the various disguises, as well 
 as private modes of access, by which Desborough, Bletson, and 
 Harrison, had been previously imposed upon. He pointed them 
 out to Pearson, with no further comment than was implied in the 
 exclamation, " The simple fools ! '' 
 
 But his assistants began to lose heart and be discouraged, and 
 required all his spirit to raise theirs. He then called their atten- 
 tion to voices which they seemed to hear before them, and urged 
 these as evidence that they were moving on the track of some 
 
WOODSTOCK. 409 
 
 enemy of the Commonwealth, who, for the execution of his malig- 
 nant plots, had retreated into these extraordinary fastnesses. 
 
 The spirits of the men became at last downcast notwithstanding 
 all this encouragement. They spoke to each other in whispers, of 
 the devils of Woodstock, who might be all the while decoying them 
 forward to a room said to exist in the Palace, where the floor, 
 revolving on an axis, precipitated those who entered into a bottom- 
 less abyss. Humgudgeon hinted, that he had consulted the Scrip- 
 ture that morning by way of lot, and his fortune had been to alight 
 on the passage, " Eutychus fell down from the third loft." The 
 energy and authority of Cromwell, however, and the refreshment 
 of some food and strong waters, reconciled them to pursuing their 
 task. 
 
 Nevertheless, with all their unwearied exertions, morning dawned 
 on the search before they had reached Doctor Rochecliffe's sitting 
 apartment, into which, after all, they obtained entrance by a mode 
 much more difficult than that which the Doctor himself employed. 
 But here their ingenuity was long at fault. From the miscellaneous 
 articles that were strewed around, and the preparations made for 
 food and lodging, it seemed they had gained the very citadel of the 
 labyrinth ; but though various passages opened from it, they all 
 terminated in places with which they were already acquainted, or 
 communicated with the other parts of the house, where their own 
 sentinels assured them none had passed. Cromwell remained long 
 in deep uncertainty. Meantime he directed Pearson to take charge 
 of the ciphers, and more important papers which lay on the table. 
 " Though there is little there," he said, " that I have not already 
 known, by means of Trusty Tomkins — Honest Joseph — for an 
 artful and thoroughpaced agent, the like of thee is not left in 
 Engknd." 
 
 After a considerable pause, during which he sounded with the 
 pommel of his sword almost every stone in the building, and 
 every plank on the floor, the General gave orders to bring the old 
 knight and Doctor Rochecliffe to the spot, trusting that he might 
 work out of them some explanation of the secrets of this apartment. 
 
 " So please your Excellency, to let me to deal with them," said 
 Pearson, who was a true soldier of fortune, and had been a buc- 
 canier in the West Indies, " I think that, by a whipcord twitched 
 tight round their forehead, and twisted about with a pistol-but, I 
 could make either the truth start from their lips, or the eyes from 
 their head." 
 
 " Out upon thee, Pearson !" said Cromwell, with abhorrence ; 
 " we have no warrant for such cruelty, neither as Englishmen nor 
 Christians. We may slay malignants as we crush noxious animals, 
 but to torture them is a deadly sin ; for it is written, ' He made them 
 
410 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 to be pitied of those who carried them captive.' Nay, I recall the 
 order even for their examination, trusting that wisdom will be 
 granted us without it, to discover their most secret devices." 
 
 There was a pause accordingly, during which an idea seized upon 
 Cromwell's imagination — "Bring me hither," he said, "yonder 
 stool ;" and placing it beneath one of the windows, of which there 
 were two so high in the wall as not to be accessible from the floor, 
 he clambered up into the entrance of the window, which was six 
 or seven feet deep, corresponding with the thickness of the wall. 
 " Come up hither, Pearson," said the General ; " but ere thou 
 comest, double the guard at the foot of the turret called Love's 
 Ladder, and bid them bring up the other petard — So now, come 
 thou hither." 
 
 The inferior officer, however brave in the field, was one of those 
 whom a great height strikes with giddiness and sickness. He 
 shrunk back from the view of the precipice, on the verge of which 
 Cromwell was standing with complete indifference, till the General, 
 catching the hand of his follower, pulled him forward as far as he 
 would advance. " I think," said the General, " I have found the 
 clew, but by this light it is no easy one ! See you, we stand in the 
 portal near the top of Rosamond's Tower ; and yon turret which 
 rises opposite to our feet, is that which is called Love's Ladder, from 
 which the drawbridge reached that admitted the profligate Norman 
 tyrant to the bower of his mistress." 
 
 " True, my lord, but the drawbridge is gone," said Pearson. 
 
 " Ay, Pearson," replied the General ; " but an active man might 
 spring from the spot we stand upon to the battlements of yonder 
 turret." 
 
 " I do not think so, my lord," said Pearson. 
 
 "What!" said Cromwell ; "not if the avenger of blood were 
 behind you, with his slaughter-weapon in his hand?" 
 
 " The fear of instant death might do much," answered Pearson ; 
 " but when I look at that sheer depth on either side, and at the 
 empty chasm between us and yonder turret, which is, I warrant you, 
 twelve feet distant, I confess the truth, nothing short of the most 
 imminent danger should induce me to try. Pah — the thought 
 makes my head grow giddy !— I tremble to see your Highness stand 
 there, balancing yourself as if you meditated a spring into the empty 
 air. I repeat, I would scarce stand so near the verge as does your 
 Highness, for the rescue of my life." 
 
 "Ah, base and degenerate spirit!" said the General; "soul of 
 mud and clay, wouldst thou not do it, and much more, for the pos- 
 session of empire ! — that is, peradventure," continued he, changing 
 his tone as one who has said too much, " shouldst thou be called 
 on to do this, that thereby becoming a great man in the tribes of 
 
WOODSTOCK. e,tz 
 
 Israel, thou mightest redeem the captivity of Jerusalem— ay, and it 
 may be, work some great work for the afflicted people of this land?" 
 
 " Your Highness may feel such calls," said the officer; " but they 
 are not for poor Gilbert Pearson, your faithful follower. You made 
 a jest of me yesterday, when I tried to speak your language ; and I 
 am no more able to fulfil your designs, than to use your mode of 
 speech." 
 
 " But, Pearson," said Cromwell, "thou hast thrice, yea, four times, 
 called me your Highness." 
 
 " Did I, my lord? I was not sensible of it. I crave your pardon," 
 said the officer. 
 
 " Nay," said Oliver, " there was no offence. I do indeed stand 
 high, and I may perchance stand higher — though, alas, it were fitter 
 for a simple soul like me to return to my plough and my husbandry. 
 Nevertheless, I will not wrestle against the Supreme will, should I 
 be called on to do yet more in that worthy cause. For surely he 
 who hath been to our British Israel as a shield of help, and a sword 
 of excellency, making her enemies be found liars unto her, will not 
 give over the flock to those foolish shepherds of Westminster, who 
 shear the sheep and feed them not, and who are in very deed 
 hirelings, not shepherds." 
 
 " I trust to see your Lordship quoit them all down stairs," 
 answered Pearson. " But may I ask why we pursue this discourse 
 even now, until we have secured the common enemy?" 
 
 " I will tarry no jot of time " — said the General ; " fence the com- 
 munication of Love's Ladder, as it is called, below, as I take it for 
 almost certain, that the party whom we have driven from fastness 
 to fastness during the night, has at length sprung to the top of 
 yonder battlements from the place whei-e we now stand. Finding 
 the turret is guarded below, the place he has chosen for his security 
 will prove a rat-trap, from whence there is no returning." 
 
 " There is a cask of gunpowder in this cabinet," said Pearson ; 
 " were it not better, my lord, to mine the tower, if he will not render 
 himself, and send the whole turret with its contents one hundred 
 feet into the air?" 
 
 " Ah, silly man," said Cromwell, striking him familiarly on the 
 shoulder, " if thou hadst done this without telling me, it had been 
 good service. But we will first snmmon the turret, and then think 
 whether the petard will serve our turn— it is but mining at last. — 
 Blow a summons there, down below." 
 
 The trumpets rang at his bidding, till the old walls echoed from 
 every recess and vaulted archway. Cromwell, as if he cared not to 
 look upon the person whom he expected to appear, drew back, like 
 a necromancer afraid of the spectre which he has evoked. 
 
 " He has come to the battlement," said Pearson to his General. 
 
412 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " In what dress or appearance ?" answered Cromwell from within 
 the chamber. 
 
 " A grey riding-suit, passmented with silver, russet walking-boots, 
 a cut band, a grey hat and plume, black hair." 
 
 "It is he, it is he!" said Cromwell; "and another crowning 
 mercy is vouchsafed !" 
 
 Meantime, Pearson and young Lee exchanged defiance from their 
 respective posts. 
 
 " Surrender," said the former, " or we blow you up in your 
 fastness." 
 
 " I am come of too high a race to surrender to rebels," said 
 Albert, assuming the air with which, in such a condition, a king 
 might have spoken. 
 
 " I bear you to witness," cried Cromwell, exultingly, "he hath 
 refused quarter. Of a surety, his blood be on his head. — One of 
 you bring down the barrel of powder. As he loves to soar high, we 
 will add what can be taken from the soldiers' bandoleers. — Come 
 with me, Pearson ; thou understandest this gear. — Corporal Grace- 
 be-here, stand thou fast on the platform of the window, where Cap- 
 tain Pearson and I stood but even now, and bend the point of thy 
 partisan against any who shall attempt to pass. Thou art as strong 
 as a bull ; and I will back thee against despair itself." 
 
 " But," said the corporal, mounting reluctantly, " the place is as 
 the pinnacle of the Temple ; and it is written, that Eutychus fell 
 down from the third loft and was taken up dead." 
 
 " Because he slept upon his post," answered Cromwell readily. 
 " Beware thou of carelessness, and thus thy feet shall be kept from 
 stumbling. — You four soldiers, remain here to support the corporal, 
 if it be necessary ; and you, as. well as the corporal, will draw into 
 the vaulted passage the minute the trumpets sound a retreat. It is 
 as strong as a casemate, and you may lie there safe from the effects 
 of the mine. Thou, Zerubbabel Robins, I know, wilt be their 
 lance-prisade."* 
 
 Robins bowed, and the General departed to join those who were 
 without. 
 
 As he reached the door of the hall, the petard was heard to ex- 
 plode, and he saw that it had succeeded ; for the soldiers rushed, 
 brandishing their swords and pistols, in at the postern of the turret, 
 whose gate had been successfully forced. A thrill of exultation, 
 but not unmingled with horror, shot across the veins of the ambitious 
 soldier. 
 
 " Now— now !" he cried ; " they are dealing with him !" 
 
 His expectations were deceived. Pearson and the others returned 
 disappointed, and reported they had been stopt by a strong trap- 
 door of grated iron, extended over th? narrow stair ; and they could 
 
WOODSTOCK. 413 
 
 see there was an obstacle of the same kind some ten feet higher. 
 To remove it by force, while a desperate and well-armed man had 
 the advantage of the steps above them, might cost many lives. 
 " Which, lack-a-day," said the General, " it is our duty to be tender 
 of. What dost thou advise, Gilbert Pearson ?" 
 
 " We must use powder, my lord," answered Pearson, who saw 
 his master was too modest to reserve to himself the whole merit of 
 the proceeding — " There may be a chamber easily and conveniently 
 formed under the foot of the stair. We have a sausage, by good 
 luck, to form the train — and so " 
 
 "Ah !" said Cromwell, "I know thou canst manage such gear 
 well — But, Gilbert, I go to visit the posts, and give them orders to 
 retire to a safe distance when the retreat is sounded. You will 
 allow them five minutes for this purpose." 
 
 " Three is enough for any knave of them all," said Pearson. 
 " They will be lame indeed, that require more on such a service — 
 I ask but one, though I fire the train myself." 
 
 " Take heed," said Cromwell, " that the poor soul be listened to, 
 if he asks quarter. It may be, he may repent him of his hard- 
 heartedness, and call for mercy." 
 
 " And mercy he shall have " — answered Pearson, " provided he 
 calls loud enough to make me hear him ; for the explosion of that 
 damned petard has made me as deaf as the devil's dam." 
 
 "Hush, Gilbert, hush!" said Cromwell; "you offend in your 
 language." 
 
 " Zooks, sir, I must speak either in your way, or in my own," said 
 Pearson, " unless I am to be dumb as well as deaf ! Away with 
 you, my lord, to visit the posts ; and you will presently hear me 
 make some noise in the world." 
 
 Cromwell .'smiled gently at his aide-de-camp's petulance, patted 
 him on the shoulder, and called him a mad fellow, walked a little 
 way, then turned back to whisper, " What thou dost, do quickly ;" 
 then returned again towards the outer circle of guards, turning his 
 head from time to time, as if to assure himself that the corporal, 
 to whom he had intrusted the duty, still kept guard with his ad- 
 vanced weapon upon the terrific chasm between Rosamond's 
 Tower and the corresponding turret. Seeing him standing on his 
 post, the General muttered between his mustaches, " The fellow 
 hath the strength and courage of a bear ; and yonder is a post 
 where one shall do more to keep back, than an hundred in making 
 way." He cast a last look on the gigantic figure, who stood in that 
 airy position, like some Gothic statue, the weapon half levelled 
 against the opposite turret, with the but rested against his right 
 foot, his steel cap and burnished corslet glittering in the rising sun. 
 
 Cromwell then passed on to give the necessary orders, that such 
 
414 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 sentinels as might be endangered at their present posts by the 
 effect of the mine, should withdraw at the sound of the trumpet to 
 the places which he pointed out to them. Never, on any occasion 
 of his life, did he display more calmness and presf nee of mind. 
 He was kind, nay, facetious with the soldiers, who adored him ; 
 and yet he resembled a volcano before the eruption commences — 
 all peaceful and quiet without, while an hundred contradictory 
 passions were raging in his bosom. 
 
 Corporal Humgudgeon, meanwhile, remained steady upon his 
 post ; yet, though as determined a soldier as ever fought among 
 the redoubted regiment of Ironsides, and possessed of no small 
 share of that exalted fanaticism which lent so keen an edge to the 
 natural courage of those stern reUgionists, the veteran felt his 
 present situation to be highly uncomfortable. Within a pike's 
 length of him arose a turret, which was about to be dispersed in 
 massive fragments through the air ; and he felt small confidence 
 in the length of time which might be allowed for his escape from 
 such a dangerous vicinity. The duty of constant vigilance upon 
 his post, was partly divided by this natural feeling, which induced 
 him from time to time to bend his eyes on the rniners below, 
 instead of keeping them riveted on the opposite turret. 
 
 At length the interest of the scene arose to the uttermost. After 
 entering and returning from the turret, and coming out again more 
 than once, in the course of about twenty minutes Pearson issued, 
 as it might be supposed, for the last time, carrying in his hand, 
 and uncoiling, as he went along, the sausage, or linen bag, (so 
 called from its appearance,) which, strongly sewed together, and 
 crammed with gunpowder, was to serve as a train betwixt the 
 mine to be sprung, and the point occupied by the engineer who 
 was to give fire. He was in the act of finally adjusting it, when 
 tlie attention of the corporal on the tower became irresistibly and 
 exclusively riveted upon the preparations for the explosion. But 
 while he watched the aide-de-camp drawing his pistol to give fire, 
 and the trumpeter handling his instrument, as waiting the order to 
 sound the retreat, fate rushed on the unhappy sentinel in a way he 
 lejst expected. 
 
 Young, active, bold, and completely possessed of his presence of 
 mind, Albert Lee, who had been from the loopholes a watchful 
 observer of every measure which had been taken by his besiegers, 
 had resolved to make one desperate effort for self-preservation. 
 While the head of the sentinel on the opposite platform was turned 
 from him, and bent rather downwards, he suddenly sprung across 
 the chasm, though the space on which he lighted was scarce wide 
 enough for two persons, threw the surprised soldier from his pre- 
 carious stand, and jumped himself down into the chamber. The 
 
WOODSTOCK. 415 
 
 gigantic trooper went sheer down twenty feet, struck against a 
 projecting battlement, which launched the wretched man outwards, 
 and then fell on the earth with such tremendous force, that the 
 head, which first touched the ground, dinted a hole in the soil of 
 six inches in depth, and was crushed like an egg-shell. Scarce 
 knowing what had happened, yet startled and confounded at the 
 descent of this heavy body, which fell at no great distance from 
 him, Pearson snapt his pistol at the train, no previous warning 
 given ; the powder caught, and the mine exploded. Had it been 
 strongly charged with powder, many of those without might have 
 ' suffered ; but the explosion was only powerful enough to blow out, 
 in a lateral direction, a part of the wall just above the foundation, 
 sufficient, however, to destroy the equipoise of the building. Then 
 amid a cloud of smoke, which began gradually to encircle the 
 turret like a shroud, arising slowly from its base to its summit, it 
 was seen to stagger and shake, by all who had courage to look 
 steadily at a sight so dreadful. Slowly, at first, the building inclined 
 outwards, then rushed precipitately to its base, and fell to the 
 ground in huge fragments, the strength of its resistance showing 
 the excellence of the mason-work. The engineer, so soon as he 
 had fired the train, fled in such alarm, that he wellnigh ran against 
 his General, who was advancing towards him, while a huge stone 
 from the summit of the building, flying farther than the rest, lighted 
 within a yard of them. 
 
 " Thou hast been over hasty, Pearson," said Cromwell, with the 
 greatest composure possible — " hath no one fallen in that same 
 tower of Siloe ? " 
 
 " Some one fell," said Pearson, still in great agitation, " and 
 yonder lies his body half-buried in the rubbish." 
 
 With a quick and resolute step, Cromwell approached the spot, 
 and exclaimed, " Pearson, thou has ruined me — the young man 
 hath escaped. — This is our own sentinel — plague on the idiot ! 
 Let him rot beneath the ruins which crushed him ! " 
 
 A cry now resounded from the platform of Rosamond's Tower, 
 which appeared yet taller than formerly, deprived of the neigh- 
 bouiing turret, which emulated, though it did not attain to its 
 height,-r" A prisoner, noble General — a prisoner — the fox whom 
 we have chased all night is now in the snare — the Lord hath de- 
 livered him into the hand of his servants." 
 
 "Look you keep him in safe custody,'' exclaimed Cromwell, 
 " and bring him presently down to the apartment from which the- 
 secret passages have their principal entrance," 
 ' " Your Excellency shall be obeyed." 
 
 The proceedings of Albert Lee, to which these exclamations 
 related, had been unfortunate. He had dashed from the platform, 
 
4X6 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 as we have related, the gigantic strength of the soldier opposed to 
 him, and had instantly jumped down into Rochecliffe's chamber. 
 But the soldiers stationed there threw themselves upon him, and 
 after a struggle, which was hopelessly maintained against such 
 advantage of numbers, had thrown the young cavalier to the 
 ground, two of them, drawn down by his strenuous exertions, fall- 
 ing across him. At the same moment a sharp and severe report 
 was heard, -which, hke a clap of thunder in the immediate vicinity, 
 shook all around them, till the strong and solid tower tottered like 
 the mast of a stately vessel when about to part by the board. In 
 a few seconds, this was followed by another sullen sound, at first 
 low and deep, but augmenting like the roar of a cataract, as it 
 descends, reeling, bellowing, and rushing, as if to astound both 
 heaven and earth. So awful, indeed, was the sound of the neigh- 
 bour tower as it fell, that both the captive, and those who strug- 
 gled with him, continued for a minute or two passive in each 
 other's grasp. 
 
 Albert was the first who recovered consciousness and activity. ' 
 He shook off those who lay above him, and made a desperate effort 
 to gain his feet, in which he partly succeeded. But as he had to 
 deal with men accustomed to every species of danger, and whose 
 energies were recovered nearly as soon as his own, he was com- 
 pletely secured, and his arms held down. Loyal and faithful to 
 his trust, and resolved to sustain to the last the character which he 
 had assumed, he exclaimed, as his struggles were finally over- 
 powered, " Rebel villains ! would you slay your king?" 
 
 " Ha, heard you that ! " cried one of the soldiers to the lance- 
 prisade, who commanded the party. " Shall I not strike this son 
 of a wicked father under the fifth rib, even as the tyrant of Moab 
 was smitten by Ehud with a dagger of a cubit's length ? " 
 
 But Robins answered, " Be it far from us, Merciful Strickalthrow, 
 to slay in cold blood the captive of our bow and of our spear. 
 Methinks, since the storm of Tredagh* we have shed enough of 
 blood — therefore, on your lives do him no evil ; but take from him 
 his arms, and let us bring him before the chosen Instrument, even 
 our General, that he may do with him what is meet in his eyes." 
 
 ■By this time the soldier, whose exultation had made him the 
 first to communicate the intelligence from the battlements to Crom- 
 well, returned, and brought commands corresponding to the orders 
 of their temporary officer ; and Albert Lee, disarmed and bound, 
 was conducted as a captive into the apartment which derived its 
 name from the victories of his ancestor, and placed in the presence 
 of General Cromwell. 
 
 Running over in his mind the time which had elapsed since the 
 departure of Charles, till the siege, if it may be termed so, had 
 
WOODSTOCK. 417 
 
 terminated in his own capture, Albert had every reason to hope 
 that his Royal Master must have had time to accomphsh his 
 escape. Yet he determined to maintain to the last a deceit, which 
 might for a time insure the King's safety. The difference betwixt 
 them could not, he thought, be instantly discovered, begrimed as 
 he was with dust and smoke, and with blood issuing from some 
 scratches received in the scuffle. 
 
 In this evil plight, but bearing himself with such dignity as was 
 adapted to the princely character, Albert was ushered into the 
 apartment of Victor Lee, where, in his father's own chair, reclined 
 the triumphant enemy of the cause to which the house of Lee had 
 been hereditarily faithful. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A barren title hast thou bought too dear : 
 Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a King ? 
 
 Henry IV. Part I. 
 
 Oliver Cromwell arose from his seat as the two veteran 
 soldiers, Zerubbabel Robins and Merciful Strickalthrow, introduced 
 into the apartment the prisoner, whom they held by the arms, and 
 fixed his stern hazel eye on Albert long before he could give vent 
 to the ideas which were swelling in his bosom. Exultation was 
 the most predominant. 
 
 " Art not thou," he at length said, " that Egyptian, which, before 
 these days, madest an uproar, and leddest out into the wilderness 
 many thousand men, who were murderers ? — Ha, youth ! I have 
 hunted thee from Stirling to Worcester,— from Worcester to Wood- 
 stock, and we have met at last ! " 
 
 " I would," replied Albert, speaking in the character which he 
 had assumed, " that we had met where I could have shown thee 
 the difference betwixt a rightful King and an ambitious Usurper !" 
 
 " Go to, young man," said Cromwell ; " say rather the difference 
 between a judge raised up for the redemption of England, and the 
 son of those Kings whom the Lord in his anger permitted to reign 
 over her. But we will not waste useless words. God knows that 
 it is not of our will that we are called to such high matters, being 
 as humble in our thoughts as we are of ourselves ; and in our un- 
 assisted nature frail and foolish ; and unable to render a reason 
 but for the better spirit within us, which is not of us. — Thou art 
 weary, young man, and thy nature requires rest and refection, being 
 doubtless dealt with delicately, as one who hath fed on the fat, and 
 drank of the sweet, and who hath been clothed in purple and fine 
 linen." 
 
 E E 
 
4i8 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Here the General suddenly stopt, and then abruptly exclaimed 
 — " But is this — Ah ! whom have we here ? These are not the 
 locks of the swarthy lad Charles Stewart ?— A cheat ! a cheat ! " 
 
 Albert hastily cast his eyes on a mirror which stood in the room, 
 and perceived that a dark peruke, found among Dr. Rocheliffe's 
 miscellaneous wardrobe, had been disordered in the scuflfle with 
 the soldiery, and that his own light-brown hair was escaping from 
 beneath it. 
 
 " Who is this ? " said Cromwell, stamping with fury — " Pluck the 
 disguise from him ! " 
 
 The soldiers did so ; and bringing him at the same time towards 
 the light, the deception could not be maintained for a moment 
 longer, with any possibility of success. Cromwell came up to him 
 with his teeth set, and grinding against each other as he spoke, his 
 hands clenched, and trembling with emotion, and speaking with a 
 voice low-pitched, bitterly and deeply emphatic, such as might have 
 preceded a stab with his dagger. 
 
 " Thy name, young man ? " 
 
 He was answered calmly and firmly, while the countenance of 
 the speaker wore a cast of triumph, and even contempt, 
 
 " Albert Lee of Ditchley, a faithful subject of King Charles." 
 
 '•' I might have guessed it," said Cromwell. — " Ay, and to King 
 Charles shalt thou go, as soon as it is noon on the dial. — Pearson," 
 he continued, " let him be carried to the others ; and let them be 
 executed at twelve exactly." 
 
 " All, sir ? " said Pearson, surprised ; for Cromwell, though he at 
 times made formidable examples, was, in general, by no means 
 sanguinary. 
 
 " All" — repeated Cromwell, fixing his eye on young Lee. — " Yes, 
 young sir, your conduct has devoted to death thy father, thy kins- 
 man, and the stranger that was in thine household. Such wreck 
 hast thou brought on thy father's house." 
 
 " My father, too— my aged father ! " said Albert, looking up- 
 ward, and endeavouring to raise his hands in the same direction, 
 which was prevented by his bonds. " The Lord's will be done ! " 
 
 " All this havoc can be saved, if," said the General, " thou wilt 
 answer one question— Where is the young Charles Stewart, who 
 was called King of Scotland ? " 
 
 " Under Heaven's protection, and safe from thy power," was the 
 firm and unhesitating answer of the young royalist. 
 
 " Away with him to prison !" said Cromwell ; " and from thence 
 to execution with the rest of them, as malignants taken in the fact. 
 Let a court-martial sit on them presently." 
 
 " One word," said young Lee, as they led him from the room. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 419 
 
 " Stop, stop," said Cromwell, with the agitation of renewed hope 
 — " let him be heard." 
 
 " You love texts of Scripture," said Albert—" Let this be the 
 subject of your next homily—' Had Zimri peace, who slew his 
 master ? ' " 
 
 "Away with him," said the General ; "let him die the death!— I 
 have said it." 
 
 As Cromwell spoke these words, his aide-de-camp observed that 
 he became unwontedly pale. 
 
 "Your Excellency is overtoiled in the pubhc service," said 
 Pearson ; " a course of the stag in the evening will refresh you. 
 The old knight hath a noble hound here, if we can but get him 
 to hunt without his master, which may be hard, as he is faithful, 
 and" 
 
 " Hang him up ! " said Cromwell. 
 
 "What — whom— hang the noble dog? Your Excellency was 
 wont to love a good hound ? '' 
 
 " It matters not," said Cromwell ; " let him be killed. Is it not 
 written, that they slew in the valley of Achor, not only the accursed 
 Achan, with his sons and his daughters, but also his oxen and 
 his asses, and his sheep, and every live thing belonging unto him ? 
 And even thus shall we do to the malignant family of Lee, who 
 have aided Sisera in his flight, when Israel might have been de- 
 livered of his trouble for ever. But send out couriers and patrols 
 — Follow, pursue, watch in every direction — Let my horse be 
 ready at the door in five minutes, or bring me the first thou canst 
 find." 
 
 It seemed to Pearson that this was something wildly spoken, 
 and that the cold perspiration was standing upon the General's 
 brow as he said it. He therefore again pressed the necessity of 
 repose, and it would appear that nature seconded strongly the re- 
 presentation. Cromwell arose and made a step or two towards the 
 door of the apartment ; but stopped, staggered, and, after a pause, 
 sat down in a chair. " Truly, friend Pearson," he said, " this weary 
 carcass of ours is an impediment to us, even in our most necessary 
 business, and I am fitter to sleep than to watch, which is not my 
 wont. Place guards, therefore, till we repose ourselves for an hour 
 or two. Send out in every direction, and spare not for horses' flesh. 
 Wake me if the court-martial should require instruction, and forget 
 not to see the sentence punctually executed on the Lees, and those 
 who were arrested with them. 
 
 As Cromwell spoke thus, he arose and half-opened a bedroom 
 door, when Pearson again craved pardon for asking if he had 
 rightly understood his Excellency, that all the prisoners were to be 
 executed. 
 
 E E 3 
 
430 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Have I not said it? " answered Cromwell, displeasedly. " Is it 
 because thou art a man of blood, and hast ever been, that thou 
 dost affect these scruples, to show thyself tenderhearted at my ex- 
 pense ? I tell thee, that if there lack one in the full tale of e-xecu- 
 tion, thine own life shall pay the forfeit." 
 
 So saying, he entered the apartment, followed by the groom of 
 his chamber, who attended upon Pearson's summons. 
 
 When his General had retired, Pearson remained in great per- 
 plexity what he ought to do ; and that from no scruples of con- 
 science, but from uncertainty whether he might not err either in 
 postponing, or in too hastily and too literally executing, the instruc- 
 tions he had received. 
 
 In the meantime, Strickalthrow and Robins had returned, after 
 lodging Albert in prison, to the room where Pearson was still 
 musing on his General's commands. Both these men were adju- 
 tators in their army, and old soldiers, whom Cromwell was accus- 
 tomed to treat with great familiarity ; so that Robins had no 
 hesitation to ask Captain Pearson, " Whether he meant to execute 
 the commands of the General, even to the letter ? " 
 
 Pearson shook his head with an air of doubt, but added, " There 
 was no choice left." 
 
 " Be assured," said the old man, " that if thou dost this folly, 
 thou wilt cause Israel to sin, and that the General will not be 
 pleased with your service. Thou knowest, and none better than 
 thou, that Oliver, although he be like unto David the son of 
 Jesse, in faith, and wisdom, and courage, yet there are times 
 when the evil spirit cometh upon him as it did upon Saul, and 
 he uttereth commands which he will not thank any one for exe- 
 cuting." 
 
 Pearson was too good a politician to assent directly to a proposi- 
 tion which he could not deny — he only shook his head once more, 
 and said that it was easy for those to tJilk who were not responsible, 
 but the soldier's duty was to obey his orders, and not to judge of 
 them. 
 
 " Very righteous truth," said Merciful Strickalthrow, a grim old 
 Scotchman ; " I marvel where our brother Zerubbabel caught up 
 this softness of heart .' " 
 
 " Why, I do but wish," said Zerubbabel, " that four or five human 
 creatures may draw the breath of God's air for a few hours more ; 
 there can be small harm done by delaying the execution,— and the 
 General will have some time for reflection." 
 
 " Ay," said Captain Pearson, " but I in my service must be more 
 pointedly obsequious, than thou in thy plainness art bound to be, 
 friend Zerubbabel." 
 
 " Then shall the coarse frieze cassock of the private soldier help 
 
WOODSTOCK. 421 
 
 the golden gaberdine of the captain to bear out the blast," said 
 Zerubbabel. "Ay, indeed, I can show you warrant why we be 
 aidful to each other in doing acts of kindness and long-suffering, 
 seeing the best of us are poor sinful creatures, who might suffer, 
 being called to a brief accounting." 
 
 " Of a verity you surprise me, brother Zerubbabel," said Strick- 
 althrow ; " that thou, being an old and experienced soldier, whose 
 head hath grown.^grey in battle, shouldst give such advice to a 
 young officer. Is not the General's commission to take away the 
 wicked from the land, and to root out the Amalekite, and the Jebu- 
 site, and the Perizzite, and the Hittite, and the Girgashite, and the 
 Amorite ? and are not these men justly to be compared to the five 
 kings, who took shelter in the cave of Makedah, who were delivered 
 into the hands of Joshua the son of Nun ? and he caused his cap- 
 tains and his soldiers to come near and tread on their necks — and 
 then he smote them, and he slew them, and then he hanged them 
 on five trees, even till evening — ^And thou, Gilbert Pearson by name, 
 be not withheld from the duty which is appointed to thee, but do 
 even as has been commanded by him who is raised up to judge and 
 to deliver Israel ; for it is written, ' cursed is he who holdeth back 
 his sword from the slaughter.' " 
 
 Thus wrangled the two military theologians, while Pearson, 
 much more solicitous to anticipate the wishes of Oliver than to 
 know the will of Heaven, listened to them with great indecision 
 and perplexity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 But let us now, like soldiers on the watch, 
 Put the soul's armour on, alike prepared 
 For all a soldier's warfare brings. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 The reader will recollect, that when Rochecliffe and Joceline 
 were made prisoners, the party which escorted them had two other 
 captives in their train, Colonel Everard, namely, and the Rev. 
 Nehemiah Holdenough. When Cromwell had obtained entrance 
 into Woodstock, and commenced his search after the fugitive 
 Prince, the prisoners were placed in what had been an old guard- 
 room, and which was by its strength well calculated to serve for a 
 prison, and a guard was placed over them by Pearson. No light 
 was allowed, save that of a glimmering fire of charcoal. The 
 prisoners remained separated from each other, Colonel Everard 
 conversing with Nehemiah Holdenough, at a distance from Doc- 
 tor Rochecliffe, Sir Henry Lee, and Joceline. The party was 
 
422 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 soon after augmented by WiMrake, who was brought down to the 
 Lodge, and thrust in with so little ceremony, that, his arms being 
 bound, he had very nearly fallen on his nose in the middle of the 
 prison. 
 
 "I thank j-ou, my good friends," he said, looking back to the 
 door, which they who had pushed him in were securing — " Point de 
 ceremonic — no apology for tumbling, so we light in good company. 
 Save ye, save ye, gentleman all— What, a la mart, and nothing 
 stirring to keep the spirits up, and make a night on't ? — the last we 
 shall have, I take it ; for a make* to a million, but we trine to the 
 nubbing cheat* to-morrow. — Patron— noble patron— how goes it ? 
 This was but a scurvy trick of Noll, so far as you were concerned : 
 as for me, why I might have deserved something of the kind at his 
 hand." 
 
 " Prithee, Wildrake, sit down," said Everard ; " thou art drunk 
 — disturb us not." 
 
 " Drunk ? I drunk .■' " cried Wildrake, " I have heen splicing the 
 main-brace, as Jack says at Wapping — have been tasting Noll's 
 brandy in a bumper to the King's health, and another to his 
 Excellency's confusion, and another to the d n of Parliament-r- 
 and it may be one or two more, but all to devilish good toasts. 
 Put I'm not drunk." 
 
 " Prithee, friend, be not profane," said Nehemiah Holdenough. 
 
 " What, my little Presbyterian Parson, my slender Mass John ? 
 thou shalt say amen to this world instantly " — said Wildrake ; " I 
 have had a weary time in't for one. — Ha, noble Sir Henry, I kiss 
 your hand — I tell thee, knight, the point of my Toledo was near 
 Cromwell's heart last night, as ever a button on the breast of his 
 doublet. Rat him, he wears secret armour — He a soldier ! Had it 
 not been for a cursed steel shirt, I would have spitted him like a lark. 
 Ha, Doctor Rochecliffe ? — thou knowest I can wield my weapon." 
 
 " Yes," replied the Doctor ; " and you know I can use mine." 
 
 " I prithee be quiet. Master Wildrake," said Sir Henry, 
 
 " Nay, good knight," answered Wildrake, " be somewhat more 
 cordial with a comrade in distress. This is a different scene from 
 the Brentford storming party. The jade Fortune has been a very 
 stepmother to me. I will sing you a song I made on my own 
 ill-luck." 
 
 " At this moment. Captain Wildrake, we are not in a fitting-mood 
 for singing," said Sir Henry, civilly and gravely. 
 
 " Nay, it will aid your devotions — Egad, it sounds like a peni- 
 tential psalm. 
 
 When I was a young lad, 
 My fortune was bad, 
 If e'er I do well 'tis a wonder 
 
WOODSTOCK. 423 
 
 I spent all my means 
 
 Amid sharpers and queans, 
 Then I got a commission to plunder, 
 
 I have stockings, 'tis true, 
 
 But the devil a shoe, 
 I am forced to wear boots in all weather ; 
 
 Be d d the boot sole, 
 
 Curse on the spur-roll. 
 Confounded be the upper-leather." * 
 
 The door opened as Wildrake finished this stanza at the top of 
 his voice, and in rushed a sentinel, who, greeting him by the title of 
 a "blasphemous bellowing bull of Bashan," bestowed a severe 
 blow, with his ramrod, on the shoulders of the songster, whose 
 bonds permitted him no means of returning the compliment. 
 
 " Your humble servant again, sir," said Wildrake, shrugging his 
 shoulders, — " sorry I have no means of showing my gratitude. I 
 am bound over to keep the peace, like Captain Bobadil — Ha, 
 knight, did you hear my bones clatter ? that blow came twangingly 
 off— the fellow might inflict the bastinado, were it in presence of 
 the Grand Seignior — he has no taste for music, knight — is no way 
 moved by the ' concord of sweet sounds.' I will warrant him fit 
 for treason, stratagem, and spoil — Eh .'—all down in the mouth- 
 well — I'll go to sleep to-night on a bench, as I've done many a 
 night, and I will be ready to be hanged decently in the morning, 
 which never happened to me before in all my life — 
 
 When I was a young lad. 
 My fortune was bad — 
 
 Pshaw ! This is not the tune it goes to," Here he fell fast asleep, 
 and sooner or later all his companions in misfortune followed his 
 example. 
 
 The benches intended for the repose of the soldiers of the guard, 
 afforded the prisoners convenience enough to lie down, though 
 their slumbers, it may be believed, were neither sound nor undis- 
 turbed. But when daylight was but a little while broken, the 
 explosion of gunpowder which took place, and the subsequent fall 
 of the turret to which the mine was applied, would have awakened 
 the Seven Sleepers, or Morpheus himself. The smoke, pene- 
 trating through the windows, left them at no loss for the cause 
 of the din. 
 
 " There went my gunpowder," said Rochechffe, " which has, I 
 trust, blown up as many rebel villains as it might have been the 
 means of destroying otherwise in a fair field. It must have caught 
 fire by chance." 
 
 "By chance? no," said Sir Henry; "depend on it, my bold 
 Albert has fired the train, and that in yonder blast Cromwell was 
 
424 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 flying towards the heaven whose battlements he will never reach — 
 Ah, my brave boy ! and perhaps thou art thyself sacrificed, like a 
 youthful Samson among the rebellious Philistines ! — But I will not 
 be long_behind thee, Albert." 
 
 Everard hastened to the door, hoping to obtain from the guard, 
 to whom his name and rank might be known, some explanation of 
 the noise, which seemed to announce some dreadful catastrophe. 
 
 But Nehemiah Holdenough, whose rest had been broken by the 
 trumpet which gave signal for the explosion, appeared in the very 
 acme of horror — " It is the trumpet of the Archangel ! " he cried, 
 — " it is the crushing of this world of elements — it is the summons 
 to the Judgment-seat ! The dead are obeying the call — they are 
 with us— they are amongst us— they arise in their bodily frames— 
 they come to summon us ! " 
 
 As he spoke, his eyes were riveted upon Doctor Rochecliffe, who 
 stood directly opposite to him. In rising hastily, the cap which 
 he commonly wore, according to a custom then usual both among 
 clergymen and gownmen of a civil profession, had escaped from 
 his head, and carried with it the large silk patch which he probably 
 wore for the purpose of disguise ; for the cheek which was dis- 
 closed was unscarred, and the eye as good as that which was 
 usually uncovered. 
 
 Colonel Everard returning from the door, endeavoured in vain to 
 make Master Holdenough comprehend what he learned from the 
 guard without, that the explosion had involved only the death of 
 one of Cromwell's soldiers. The Presbyterian divine continued to 
 stare wildly at him of the Episcopal persuasion. 
 
 But Doctor Rochecliffe heard and understood the news brought 
 by Colonel Everard, and, relieved from the instant anxiety which 
 had kept him stationary, he advanced towards the retiring Calvinist, 
 extending his hand in the most friendly manner. 
 
 " Avoid thee— Avoid thee I " said Holdenough, " the living may 
 not join hands with the dead." 
 
 " But I," said Rochecliffe, " am as much alive as you are." 
 
 " Thou alive !— thou ! Joseph Albany, whom my own eyes saw 
 precipitated from the battlements of Clidesthrow Castle ? " 
 
 "Ay," answered the Doctor, "but you did not see me swim 
 ashore on a marsh covered with sedges— /z^^zV ad salices—aittr a 
 manner which I will explain to you another time." 
 
 Holdenough touched his hand with doubt and uncertainty. 
 " Thou art indeed warm and alive," he said, " and yet after so 
 many blows, and a fall so tremendous— thou canst not be my 
 Joseph Albany." 
 
 " I am Joseph Albany Rochecliffe," said the Doctor, « become 
 so in virtue of my mother's little estate, which fines and confisca- 
 ions have made an end of." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 425 
 
 " And is it so indeed !" said Holdenough, '' and have I recovered 
 mine old chum ! " 
 
 " Even so," replied Rochecliffe, " by the same token I appeared 
 to you in the Mirror Chamber — Thou wert so bold, Nehemiah, 
 that our whole scheme would have been shipwrecked, had I not 
 appeared to thee in the shape of a departed friend. Yet, believe 
 me, it went against my heart to do it." 
 
 " Ah, fie on thee, fie on thee," said Holdenough, throwing him- 
 self into his arms, and clasping him to his bosom, " thou wert ever 
 a naughty wag. How couldst thou play me such a trick ? Ah, 
 Albany, dost thou remember Dr. Purefoy and Caius College ? " 
 
 " Marry, do I," said the Doctor, thrusting his arm through the 
 Presbyterian divine's, and guiding him to a seat apart from the 
 other prisoners, who witnessed this scene with much surprise. 
 " Remember Caius College ? " said Rochecliffe, " ay, and the good 
 ale we drank, and our parties to Mother Huffcap's." 
 
 " Vanity of vanities," said Holdenough, smiling kindly at the 
 same time, and still holding his recovered friend's arm enclosed 
 and hand-locked in his. 
 
 " But the breaking the Principal's orchard, so cleanly done," 
 said the Doctor ; " it was the first plot I ever framed, and much 
 work I had to prevail on thee to go into it." 
 
 " Oh, name not that iniquity," said Nehemiah, " since I may 
 well say, as the pious Master Baxter, that these boyish offences 
 have had their punishment in later years, inasmuch as that inor- 
 dinate appetite for fruit hath produced stomachic affections under 
 which I yet labour." 
 
 " True, true, dear Nehemiah," said Rochecliffe, " but care not 
 for them— a dram of brandy will correct it all. Mr. Baxter was," 
 — he was about to say, " an ass," but checked himself, and only 
 filled up the sentence with " a good man, I dare say, but over 
 scrupulous." 
 
 So they sat down together the best of friends, and for half an 
 hour talked with mutual delight over old college stories. By 
 degrees they got on the politics of the day ; and though then they 
 unclasped their hands, and there occurred between them such 
 expressions as, " Nay, my dear brother," and, "there I must needs 
 differ," and, " on this point I crave leave to think ;" yet a hue and 
 cry against the Independents and other sectarists being started, 
 they followed like brethren in full hollo, and it was hard to guess 
 which was most forward. Unhappily, in the course of this amic- 
 able intercourse, something was mentioned about the bishopric of 
 Titus, which at once involved them in the doctrinal question of 
 Church Government. Then, alas ! the floodgates were opened 
 and they showered on each other Greek and Hebrew texts, while 
 
426 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 their eyes kindled, their cheeks glowed, their hands became 
 clenched, and they looked more like fierce polemics about to rend 
 each other's eyes out, than Christian divines. 
 
 Roger Wildrake, by making himself an auditor of the debate, 
 contrived to augment its violence. He took, of course, a most 
 decided part in the question, the merits of which were totally 
 unknown to him. Somewhat overawed by Holdenough's ready 
 oratory and learning, the cavalier watched with a face of anxiety 
 the countenance of Doctor Rochecliffe ; but when he saw the 
 proud eye and steady bearing of the Episcopal champion, and 
 heard him answer Greek with Greek, and Hebrew with Hebrew, 
 Wildrake backed his arguments as he closed them, with a stout 
 rap upon the bench, and an exulting laugh in the face of the 
 antagonist. It was with some difficulty that Sir Henry and 
 Colonel Everard, having at length and reluctantly interfered, 
 prevailed on the two alienated friends to adjourn their dispute, 
 removing at the same time to a distance, and regarding each 
 other with looks in which old friendship appeared to have totally 
 given way to mutual animosity. 
 
 But while they sat lowering on each other, and longing to renew 
 a contest in which each claimed the victory, Pearson entered the 
 prison, and in a low and troubled voice, desired the persons whom 
 it contained to prepare for instant death. 
 
 Sir Henry Lee received the doom with the stern composure 
 which he had hitherto displayed. Colonel Everard attempted the 
 interposition of a strong and resentful appeal to the Parliament, 
 against the judgment of the court-martial and the General. But 
 Pearson declined, to receive or transmit any such remonstrance, 
 and with a dejected look and mien of melancholy presage, renewed 
 his exhortation to them to prepare for the hour of noon, and with- 
 drew from the prison. 
 
 The operation of this intelligence on the two clerical disputants 
 was more remarkable. They gazed for a moment on each other 
 with eyes in which repentant kindness and a feeling of generous 
 shame quenched every lingering feeling of resentment, and joining 
 in the mutual exclamation — " My brother — my brother, I have 
 sinned, I have sinned in offending thee!" they rushed into each 
 other's arms, shed tears as they demanded each other's forgive- 
 ness, and, like two warriors, who sacrifice a personal quarrel to 
 discharge their duty against the common enemy, they recalled 
 nobler ideas of their sacred character, and, assuming the part 
 which best became them on an occasion so melancholy, began to 
 exhort those around them to meet the doom that had been an- 
 nounced, with the firmness and dignity which Christianity alone 
 can give. 
 
WOODSTOCK. 427 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Most gracious prince, good Cannyng cried, 
 
 Leave vengeance to our God, 
 And lay the iron rule aside. 
 
 Be thine the olive rod. 
 
 Ballad of Sir Charles Bawdin. 
 
 The hour appointed for execution had been long past, and it 
 was about five in the evening, when the Protector summoned 
 Pearson to his presence. He went with fear and reluctance, un- 
 certain how he might be received. After remaining about a quarter 
 of an hour, the aide-de-camp returned to Victor Lee's parlour, 
 where he found the old soldier, Zerubbabel Robins, in attendance 
 for his return. 
 
 " How is Oliver ? " said the old man, anxiously. 
 
 " Why, well," answered Pearson, " and hath asked no questions 
 of the execution, but many concerning the reports we have been 
 able to make regarding the flight of the young man, and is much 
 moved at thinking he must now be beyond pursuit. Also I gave him 
 certain papers belonging to the malignant Doctor Rochecliffe." 
 
 " Then will I venture upon him," said the adjutator ; " so give 
 me a napkin that I may look like a sewer, and fetch up the food 
 which I directed should be in readiness." 
 
 Two troopers attended accordingly with a ration of beef, such as 
 was distributed to the private soldiers, and dressed after their 
 fashion — a pewter pot of ale, a trencher with salt, black pepper, 
 and a loaf of ammunition bread. " Come with me," he said to 
 Pearson, " and fear not — Noll loves an innocent jest." He boldly 
 entered the General's sleeping apartment, and said aloud, " Arise, 
 thou that art called to be a judge in Israel — let there be no more 
 folding of the hands to sleep. Lo, I come as a sign to thee ; where- 
 fore arise, eat, drink, and let thy heart be glad within thee, for thou 
 shalt eat with joy the food of him that laboureth in the trenches, 
 seeing that since thou wert commander over the host, the poor 
 sentinel hath had such provisions as I have now placed for thine 
 own refreshment." 
 
 " Truly, brother Zerubbabel," said Cromwell, accustomed to such 
 starts of enthusiasm among his followers, " we would wish that it 
 were so ; neither is it our desire to sleep soft, nor feed more highly, 
 than the meanest that ranks under our banners. Verily, thou hast 
 chosen well for my refreshment, and the smell of the food is savoury 
 in my nostrils." 
 
 He arose from the bed, on which he had lain down half dressed, 
 and wrapping his cloak around him, sat down by the bedside, and 
 
428 WOODSTOCK, 
 
 partook heartily of the plain food which was prepared for him. 
 While he was eating, Cromwell commanded Pearson to finish his 
 report — "You need not desist for the presence of a worthy soldier, 
 whose spirit is as my spirit." 
 
 " Nay, but," interrupted Robins, " you are to know that Gilbert 
 Pearson hath not fully executed thy commands, touching a part of 
 those malignants, all of whom should have died at noon." 
 
 " What execution — what malignants ? " said Cromwell, laying 
 down his knife and fork. 
 
 " Those in the prison here at Woodstock," answered Zerubbabel, 
 " whom your Excellency commanded should be executed at noon, 
 as taken in the fact of rebellion against the Commonwealth." 
 
 " Wretch ! " said Cromwell, starting up and addressing Pearson, 
 "thou hast not touched Mark Everard, in whom there was no 
 guilt, for he was deceived by him who passed between us — neither 
 hast thou put forth thy hand on the pragmatic Presbyterian 
 minister, to have all those of their classes cry sacrilege, and 
 alienate them from us for ever.' " 
 
 " If your Excellency wish them to live, they live — their life and 
 death are in the power of a word," said Pearson. 
 
 " Enfranchise them ; I must gain the Presbyterian interest over 
 to us if I can." 
 
 " Rochecliffe, the arch-plotter,'' said Pearson, " I thought to 
 have executed, but " 
 
 " Barbarous man,'' said Cromwell, " alike ungrateful and im- 
 politic — wouldst thou have destroyed our decoy-duck ? This doctor 
 is but like a well, a shallow one indeed, but something deeper than 
 the springs which discharge their secret tribute into his keeping ; 
 then come I with a pump, and suck it all up to the open air. 
 Enlarge him, and let him have money if he wants it. I know his 
 haunts ; he can go nowhere but our eye will be upon him.^But 
 you look at each other darkly, as if you had more to say than you 
 durst. I trust you have not done to death Sir Henry Lee ? " 
 
 " No. Yet the man," replied Pearson, " is a confirmed malignant, 
 and" 
 
 " Ay, but he is also a noble relic of the ancient English Gentle- 
 man," said the General. " I would I knew how to win tho favour 
 of that race ! But we, Pearson, whose royal robes are the armour 
 which we wear on our bodies, and whose leading-staves are our 
 sceptres, are too newly set up to draw the respect of the proud 
 malignants, who cannot brook to submit to less than royal Uneage. 
 Yet what can they see in the longest kingly line in Europe, save that 
 it runs back to a successful soldier ? I grudge that one man should 
 be honoured and followed, because he is the descendant of a 
 victorious commander, while less honour and allegiance is paid to 
 
WOODSTOCK. 429 
 
 another, who, in personal qualities, and, in success, might emulate 
 the founder of his rival's dynasty. Well, Sir Henry Lee lives,, and 
 shall live for me. His son, indeed, hath deserved the death which 
 he has doubtless sustained." 
 
 "My lord," stammered Pearson, "since your Excellency has 
 found I am right in suspending your order in so many instances, I 
 trust you will not blame in this also — I thought it best to await 
 more special orders." 
 
 " Thou art in a mighty merciful humour this morning, Pearson," 
 said Cromwell, not entirely satisfied. 
 
 " If your Excellency please, the halter is ready, and so is the 
 provost-marshal." 
 
 " Nay, if such a bloody fellow as thou hast spared him, it would ill 
 become me to destroy him," said the General. " But then, here is 
 among Rochecliffe's papers the engagement of twenty desperadoes 
 to take us off — some example ought to be made." 
 
 " My lord," said Zerubbabel, " consider now how often this young 
 man, Albert Lee, hath been near you, nay, probably, quite close to 
 your Excellency, in these dark passages, which he knew, and we 
 did not; Had he been of an assassin's nature, it would have cost 
 him but a pistol-shot, and the light of Israel was extinguished. 
 Nay, in the unavoidable confusion which must have ensued, the 
 sentinels quitting their posts, he might have had a fair chance of 
 escape." 
 
 " Enough, Zerubbabel ; he lives," said the General. " He shall 
 remain in custody for some time, however, and be then banished 
 from England. The other two are safe, of course ; for you would 
 not dream of considering such paltry fellows as fit victims for my 
 revenge." 
 
 "One fellow, the under-keeper, called Joliffe, deserves death, 
 however," said Pearson, " since he has frankly admitted that he 
 slew honest Joseph Tomkins." 
 
 " He deserves a reward for saving us a labour," said Cromwell ; 
 " that Tomkins was a most double-hearted villain. I have found 
 evidence among these papers here, that if we had lost the fight at 
 Worcester, we should have had reason to regret that we had ever 
 trusted Master Tomkins— it was only our success which anticipated 
 his treachery— write us down debtor, not creditor, to Joceline, an 
 you call him so, and to his quarterstaff." 
 
 "There remains the sacrilegious and graceless cavalier who 
 attempted your Excellency's life last night," said Pearson. 
 
 "Nay," said the General, "that were stooping tOQ' low'for 
 revenge. His sword had no more power than had he th'rusted with 
 a tobacco-pipe. Eagles stoop not at mallards, or wild-drakes 
 cither." 
 
430 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 " Yet, sir," said Pearson, " the fellow should be punished as a 
 libeller. The quantity of foul and pestilential abuse which we 
 found in his pockets makes me loath he should go altogether free— 
 Please to look at them, sir." 
 
 " A most vile hafad," said Oliver, as he looked at a sheet or two 
 of our friend Wildrake's poetical miscellanies — " The very hand- 
 writing seems to be drunk, and the very poetry not sober — What 
 have we here ? 
 
 ' When I was a young lad, 
 My fortune was bad — 
 If e'er I do well, 'tis a wonder' — 
 
 Why, what trash is this ? — and then again — 
 
 ' Now a plague on the poll 
 Of old politic Noll ! 
 We will drink till we bring 
 In triumph back the King.' 
 
 In truth, if it could be done that way, this poet would be a stout 
 champion. Give the poor knave five pieces, Pearson, and bid him 
 go sell his ballads. If he come within twenty miles of our person, 
 though^ we will have him flogged till the blood runs down to his 
 heels." 
 
 "There remains only one sentenced person," said Pearson, 
 "a noble wolf-hound, finer than any your Excellency saw in 
 Ireland. He belongs to the old knight Sir Henry Lee. Should 
 your Excellency not desire to keep the fine creature yourself, might 
 I presume to beg that I might have leave ? " 
 
 " No, Pearson," said Cromwell ; " the old man, so faithful 
 himself, shall not be deprived of his faithful dog. — I would / had 
 any creature, were it but a dog, that followed me because it loved 
 me, not for what it could make of me." 
 
 " Your Excellency is unjust to your faithful soldiers," said 
 Zerubbabel, bluntly, " who follow you like dogs, fight for you like 
 dogs, and have the grave of a dog on the spot where they happen 
 to fall." 
 
 " How now, old grumbler," said the General, " what means this 
 change of note ? " 
 
 " Corporal Humgudgeon's remains are left to moulder under the 
 ruins of yonder tower, and Tomkins is thrust into a hole in a 
 thicket like a beast." 
 
 " True, true," said Cromwell, " they shall be removed to the 
 churchyard, and every soldier shall attend with cockades of sea- 
 green and blue ribbon — Every one of the non-commissioned officers 
 and adjutators shall have a mourning scarf; we ourselves will lead 
 
WOODSTOCK. 431 
 
 the procession, and there shall be a proper dole of wine, burnt 
 brandy, and rosemary. See that it is done, Pearson. After the 
 funeral, Woodstock shall be dismantled and destroyed, that its 
 recesses'may not again afford shelter to rebels and malignants." 
 
 The commands of the General were punctually obeyed, and when 
 the other prisoners were dismissed, Albert Lee remained for some 
 time in custody. He went abroad after his liberation, entered in 
 King Charles's Guards, where he was promoted by that monarch. 
 But his fate, as we shall see hereafter, only allowed him a short 
 though bright career. 
 
 We return to the liberation of the other prisoners from Wood- 
 stock. The two divines, completely reconciled to each other, 
 retreated arm in arm to the parsonage-house, formerly the 
 residence of Doctor Rochecliffe, but which he now visited as the 
 guest of his successor, Nehemiah Holdenough. The Presbyterian 
 had no sooner installed his friend under his roof, than he urged 
 upon him an offer to partake it, and the income annexed to it, as 
 his own. Doctor Rochecliffe was much affected, but wisely rejected 
 the generous offer, considering the difference of their tenets on 
 Church government, which each entertained as religiously as his 
 creed. Another debate, though a light one, on the subject of the 
 office of Bishops in the Primitive Church, confirmed him in his 
 resolution. They parted the next day, and their friendship remained 
 undisturbed by controversy till Mr. Holdenough's death, in 1658 ; a 
 harmony which might be in some degree owing to their never 
 meeting again after their imprisonment. Doctor Rochecliffe was 
 restored to his living after the Restoration, and ascended from 
 thence to high clerical preferment 
 
 The inferior personages of the grand jail-delivery at Woodstock 
 Lodge easily found themselves temporary accommodations in the 
 town among old acquaintance ; but no one ventured to entertain 
 the old knight, understood to be so much under the displeasure of 
 the ruling powers ; and even the innkeeper of the George, who had 
 been one of his tenants, scarce dared to admit him to the common 
 privileges of a traveller, who has food and lodging for his money. 
 Everard attended him unrequested, unpermitted, but also un- 
 forbidden. The heart of the old man had been turned once more 
 towards him when he learned how he had behaved at the memorable 
 rencontre at the King's Oak, and saw that he was an object of the 
 enmity, rather than the favour of Cromwell. But there was another 
 secret feeling which tended to reconcile him to his nephew — the 
 conciousness that Everard shared with him the deep anxiety which 
 he experienced on account of his daughter, who had not yet returned 
 from her doubtful and perilous expedition. He felt that he himself 
 would perhaps be unable to discover where Alice had taken refuge 
 
432 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 during the late events, or to obtain her deliverance if she was taken 
 into custody. He wished Everard to offer him his service in making 
 a search for her, but shame prevented his preferring the request ; 
 and Everard, who could not suspect the altered state of his uncle's 
 mind, was afraid to make the proposal of assistance, or even to 
 name the name of Alice. 
 
 The sun had already set — they sat looking each other in the 
 face in silence, when the trampling of horses was heard — there was 
 knocking at the door — there was a light step on the stair, and 
 Alice, the subject of their anxiety, stood before them. She threw 
 herself joyfully into her father's arms, who glanced his eye heed- 
 fully round the room, as he said in a whisper, " Is all safe ? " 
 
 " Safe and out of danger, as I trust," replied Alice — " I have a 
 token for you." 
 
 Her eye then rested on Everard — she blushed, was embarrassed, 
 and silent. 
 
 " You need not fear your Presbyterian cousin," said the knight, 
 with a good-humoured smile, " he has himself proved a confessor 
 at least for loyalty, and ran the risk of being a martyr." 
 
 She pulled from her bosom the royal rescript, written on a small 
 and soiled piece of paper, and tied round with a worsted thread 
 instead of a seal. Such as it was. Sir Henry ere he opened it 
 pressed the little packet with Oriental veneration to his lips, to his 
 heart, to his forehead ; and it was not before a tear had dropt on it 
 that he found courage to open and read the billet. It was in these 
 words : — 
 
 " LOVAL OUR MUCH ESTEEMED FRIEND, AND OUR TRUSTY 
 ISUBJECT, 
 
 " It having become known to us that a purpose of marriage has 
 been entertained betwixt Mrs. Alice Lee, your only daughter, and 
 Markham Everard, Esq. of Eversly Chase, her kinsman, and by 
 afifiancy your nephew : And being assured that this match would 
 be highly agreeable to you, had it not been for certain respects to 
 our service, which induced you to refuse your consent thereto— We 
 do therefore acquaint you, that, far from our affairs suffering by 
 such an alliance, we do exhort, and, so far as we may, require you 
 to consent to the same, as you would wish to do us good pleasure, 
 and greatly to advance our affairs. 'Leaving to you, nevertheless, 
 as becometh a Christian King, the full exercise of your own dis- 
 cretion concerning other obstacles to such an alliance, which may 
 exist, independent of those connected with our service. Witness 
 our hand, together with our thankful recollections of your good 
 services to our late Royal Father, as well as ourselves, 
 
 " C. R." 
 
WOODSTOCK. 433 
 
 Long and steadily did Sir Henry gaze on the letter, so that it 
 might almost seem as if he were getting it by heart. He then 
 placed it carefully in his pocketbook, and asked Alice the account 
 of her adventures of the preceding night. They were briefly told. 
 Their midnight walk through the Chase had been speedily and 
 safely accomplished. Nor had the King once made the slightest 
 relapse into the naughty Louis Kerneguy. When she had seen 
 Charles and his attendant set off, she had taken some repose in 
 the cottage where they parted. With the morning came news that 
 Woodstock was occupied by soldiers, so that return thither might 
 have led to danger, suspicion, and enquiry. Alice therefore did not 
 attempt it, but went to a house in the neighbourhood, inhabited by 
 a lady of established loyalty, whose husband had been major of Sir 
 Henry Lee's regiment, and had fallen at the battle of Naseby. 
 Mrs. Aylmer was a sensible woman, and indeed the necessities of 
 the singular times had sharpened every one's faculties for stratagem 
 and intrigue. She sent a faithful servant to scout about the man- 
 sion at \¥oodstock, who no sooner saw the prisoners dismissed and 
 in safety, and ascertained the knight's destination for the evening, 
 than he carried the news to his mistress, and by her orders attended 
 Alice on horseback to join her father. 
 
 There was seldom, perhaps, an evening meal made in such 
 absolute silence as by this embarrassed party, each occupied with 
 their own thoughts, and at a loss how to fathom those of the others. 
 At length the hour came when Alice felt herself at liberty to retire 
 to repose after a day so fatiguing. Everard handed her to the 
 door of her apartment, and was then himself about to take leave, 
 when, to his surprise, his uncle asked him to return, pointed to a 
 chair, and giving him the King's letter to read, fixed his looks on 
 him steadily during the perusal ; determined that if he could dis- 
 cover aught short of the utmost delight in the reading, the -com- 
 mands of the King himself should be disobeyed, rather than Alice 
 should be sacrificed to one who received not her hand as the 
 greatest blessing earth had to bestow. But the features of Everard 
 indicated joyful hope, even beyond what the father could have 
 anticipated, yet mingled with surprise ; and when he raised his ey 
 to the knight's with timidity and doubt, a smile was on Sir Henry's 
 countenance as he broke silence. " The King," he said, " had he 
 no other subject in England, should dispose at will of those of the 
 house of Lee. But methinks the family of Everard have not been 
 so devoted of late to the crown as to comply with a mandate, 
 inviting its heir to marry the daughter of a beggar." 
 
 " The daughter of Sir Henry Lee," said Everard, kneeling to his 
 uncle, and perforce kissing his hand, " would grace the house of a 
 Duke." 
 
 F F 
 
434 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 "The girl is well enough," said the knight proudly ;"for myself, 
 my poverty shall neither shame nor encroach on my friends. Some 
 few pieces I have by Dr. Rochecliffe's kindness, and Joceline and I 
 will strike out something." 
 
 " Nay, my dear uncle, you are richer than you think for," said 
 Everard. " That part of your estate, which my father redeemed 
 for payment of a moderate composition, is still your own, and held 
 by trustees in your name, myself being one of them. You are only 
 our debtor for an advance of monies, for which, if it will content 
 you, we will count with you like usurers. My father is incapable 
 of profiting by making a bargain on his own account for the 
 estate of a distressed friend ; and all this you would have learned 
 long since, but that you would not — I mean, time did not serve for 
 explanation — I mean" 
 
 " You mean I was too hot to hear reason, Mark, and I believe it 
 is very true. But I think we understand each other now. To- 
 morrpw I go with my family to Kingston, where is an old house I 
 may still call mine. Come hither at thy leisure, Mark, — or thy 
 best speed, as thou wilt — but come with thy father's consent." 
 
 " With my father in person," said Everard, " if you will permit." 
 
 " Be that," answered the knight, " as he and you will — I think 
 Joceline will scarce shut the door in thy face, or Bevis growl as he 
 did after poor Louis Kerneguy. — Nay, no more raptures, but good- 
 night, Mark, good-night ; and if thou art not tired with the fatigue 
 of yesterday— 'why, if you appear here at seven in the morning, I 
 think we must bear with your company on the Kingston road." 
 
 Dnce more Everard pressed the knight's hand, caressed Bevis, 
 who received his kindness graciously, and went home to dreams of 
 happiness, which were realized, as far as this motley world permits, 
 within a few months afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 My life was of a piece, 
 Spent in your service — dying at your feet. 
 
 Don Sebastian. 
 
 Years rush by us like the wind. We see not whence the eddy 
 comes, nor witherward it is tending, and we seem ourselves to 
 witness their flight without a sense that we are changed ; ^nd yet 
 Time is beguiling man of his strength, as the winds rob the woods 
 of their foilage. 
 
 After the marriage of Alice and Markham Everard, the old 
 knight resided near them, in an ancient manor-house, belonging to 
 
WOODSTOCK. 43S 
 
 the redeemed portion of his estate, where Joceline and Phcebe 
 now man and wife, with one or two domestics, regulated the affairs 
 of his household. When he tired jof Shakspeare and solitude, he 
 was ever a welcome guest at his son-in-law's, where he went the 
 more frequently that Markham had given up all concern in public 
 affairs, disapproving of the forcible dismissal of the Parliament, and 
 submitting to Cromwell's subsequent domination, rather as that 
 which was the lesser evil, than as to a government which he 
 regarded as legal. Cromwell seemed ever willing to show himself 
 his friend ; but Everard, resenting highly the proposal to deliver up 
 the King, which he considered as an insult to his honour, never 
 answered such advances, and became, on the contrary, of the 
 opinion, which was now generally prevalent in the nation, that a 
 settled government could not be obtained without the recall of the 
 banished family. There is no doubt that the personal kindness 
 which he had received from Charles, rendered him the more readily 
 disposed to such a measure. He was peremptory, however, in 
 declining all engagements during Oliver's life, whose power he 
 considered as too firmly fixed to be shaken by any plots which 
 could be formed against it. 
 
 Meantime, Wildrake continued to be Everard's protected de- 
 pendent as before, though sometimes the connexion tended not 
 a little to his inconvenience. That respectable person, indeed, 
 while he remained stationary in his patron's house, or that of 
 the old knight, discharged many little duties in the family, and 
 won Alice's heart by his attention to the children, teaching the 
 boys, of whom they had three, to ride, fence, toss the pike, and 
 many similar exercises ; and, above all, filling up a great blank 
 in her father's existence, with whom he played at chess and 
 backgammon, or read Shakspeare, or was clerk to prayers when 
 any sequestrated divine ventured to read the service of the 
 Church. Or he found game for him while the old gentleman 
 continued to go a-sporting ; and, especially, he talked over the 
 storming of Brentford, and the battles of Edgehill, Banbury, 
 Roundway-down, and others, themes which the aged cavalier 
 delighted in, but which he could not so well enter upon with 
 Colonel Everard, who had gained his laurels in the Parliament 
 service. 
 
 The assista,nce which he received from Wildrake's society became 
 more necessary, after Sir Henry was deprived of his gallant and 
 only son, who was slain in the fatal battle of Dunkirk, where, un- 
 happily, English colours were displayed on both the contending 
 sides, the French being then allied with Oliver, who sent to their 
 aid a body of auxiliaries, and the troops of the banished King 
 fighting in behalf of the Spaniards. Sir Henry received the melan- 
 
 F r 2 
 
435 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 choly news like an old man, that is, with more external composure 
 than could have been anticipated. He dwelt for weeks and months 
 on the lines forwarded by the indefatigable Doctor Rochecliffe, 
 superscribed in small letters^ C. R., and subscribed Louis Ker- 
 neguy, in which the writer conjured him to endure this in- 
 estimable loss with the greater firmness, that he had still left one 
 son, (intimating himself,) who would always regard him as a 
 father. 
 
 But in spite of this balsam, sorrow acting imperceptibly, and 
 sucking the blood like a vampire, seemed gradually drying up the 
 springs of life; and, without any formed illness, or outward com- 
 plaint, the old man's strength and vigour gradually abated, and the 
 ministry of Wildrake proved daily more indispensable. 
 
 It was not, however, always to be had. The cavalier was one of 
 those happy persons whom a strong constitution, an- unreflecting 
 mind, and exuberant spirits, enabled to play through their whole 
 lives the part of a schoolboy — happy for the moment, and careless 
 of consequences. 
 
 Once or twice every year, when he had collected a few pieces, 
 the Cavaliero Wildrake made a start to London, where, as he 
 described it, he went on the ramble, drank as much wine as he 
 could come by, and led a skeldering life, to use his own phrase, 
 among roystering cavaliers like himself, till by some rash speech, 
 or wild action, he got into the Marshalsea, the Fleet, or some other 
 prison, from which he was to be delivered at the expense of interest, 
 money, and sometimes a little reputation. 
 
 At length Cromwell died, his son resigned the government, and 
 the various changes which followed induced Everard, as well as 
 many others, to adopt more active measures in the King's behalf. 
 Everard even remitted considerable sums for his service, but with 
 the utmost caution, and corresponding with no intermediate agent, 
 but with the Chancellor himself, to whom he communicated much 
 useful information upon public affairs. With all his prudence he 
 was very nearly engaged in the ineffectual rising of Booth and 
 Middleton in the wes't, and with great difficulty escaped from the 
 fatal consequences of that ill-timed attempt. After this, although 
 the estate of the kingdom was trebly unsettled, yet no card seemed 
 to turn up favourable to the royal cause, until the movement of 
 General Monk from Scotland. Even then, it was when at the 
 point of complete success, that the fortunes of Charles seemed at a 
 lower ebb than ever, especially when intelligence had arrived at the 
 little Court which he then kept in Brussels, that Monk, on arriving 
 in London, had put himself under the orders of the Parliament. 
 
 It was at this time, and in the evening, while the King, Bucking- 
 ham, Wilmot, and some other gallants of his wandering Court, were 
 
WOODSTOCK. 437 
 
 , engaged in a convivial party, that the Chancellor (Clarendon) 
 suddenly craved audience, and entering with less ceremony than he 
 would have done at another time, announced extraordinary news. 
 For the messenger, he said, he could say nothing, saving that he 
 appeared to have drunk much, and slept little ; but that he had 
 brought a sure token of credence from a man for whose faith he 
 would venture his life. The King demanded to see the messenger 
 himself. 
 
 A man entered, with something the manners of a gentleman, and 
 more those of a ral^ehelly debauchee— his eyes swelled and in- 
 flamed — his gait disordered and stumbling, partly through lack of 
 sleep, partly through the means he had taken to support his fatigue. 
 He staggered without ceremony to the head of the table, seized the 
 King's hand, which he mumbled like a piece of gingerbread ; while 
 Charles, who began to recollect him from his mode of salutation, 
 was not very much pleased that their meeting should have taken 
 place before so many witnesses. 
 
 "I bring good news," said the uncouth messenger, "glorious 
 news !— the King shall enjoy his own again ! — My feet are beautiful 
 on the mountains. Gad, I have lived with Presbyterians till I have 
 caught their language — but we are all one man's children now — all 
 your Majesty's poor babes. The Rump is all ruined in London — 
 Bonfires flaming, music playing, rumps roasting, healths drinking, 
 London in a blaze of light from the Strand to Rotherhithe— tankards 
 clattering " 
 
 " We can guess at that," said the Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 " My old friend Mark Everard sent me off with the news — I'm a 
 villain if I've slept since. Your Majesty recollects me, I am sure. 
 Your Majesty remembers, sa — sa — at the King's Oak, at Wood- 
 stock ? — 
 
 ' O, we'll dance and sing and play. 
 For 'twill be a joyous day 
 When the King shall enjoy his own again.' " 
 
 " Master Wildrake, I remember you well," said the King, " I 
 trust the good news is certain ? " 
 
 " Certain ! your Majesty ; did I not hear the bells ? — did I not 
 see the bonfires ? — did I not drink your Majesty's health so often, 
 that my legs would scarce carry me to the wharf? It is as certain 
 as that I am poor Roger Wildrake of Squattlesea-mere, Lincoln." 
 
 The Duke of Buckingham here whispered to the King, " I have 
 always suspected your Majesty kept odd company during the 
 escape from Worcester, but this seems a rare sample." 
 
 " Why, pretty much like yourself, and other company I have kept 
 here so many years— as §t0«t a heart, as empty a head," said 
 
438 WOODSTOCK. 
 
 Charles — "as much lace, though somewhat tarnished, as much 
 brass on the brow, and nearly as much copper in the pocket." 
 
 " I would your Majesty would intrust this messenger of good 
 news with me, to get the truth out of him," said Buckingham. 
 
 " Thank your Grace," replied the King ; " but he has a will as 
 well as yourself, and such seldom agree. My Lord Chancellor hath 
 wisdom, and to that we must trust ourselves.'— Master Wildrake, 
 you will go with my Lord Chancellor, who will bring us a report oi 
 your tidings ; meantime, I assure you that you shall be no loser for 
 being the first messenger of good news." So saying, he gave a 
 signal to the Chancellor to take away Wildrake, whom he judged, 
 in his present humour, to be not unlikely to communicate some 
 former passages at Woodstock, which might rather entertain than 
 edify the wits of his court. 
 
 Corroboration of the joyful inteUigence soon arrived, and Wildrake 
 was presented with a handsome gratuity and small pension, which, 
 by the King's special desire, had no duty whatever attached to it. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, all England was engaged in chorusing his 
 favourite ditty— 
 
 " O, the twenty-ninth of May, 
 It was a glorious day. 
 When the King did enjoy his own again." 
 
 On that memorable day, the King prepared to make his progress 
 from Rochester to London, with a reception on the part of his 
 subjects so unanimously cordial, as made him say gaily, it must 
 have been his own fault to stay so long away from a country where 
 his arrival gave so much joy. On horseback, betwixt his brothers, 
 the Dukes of York and Gloucester, the Restored Monarch trode 
 slowly over roads strewn with flowers— by conduits running wine, 
 under triumphal arches, and through streets hung with tapestry. 
 There were the citizens in various bands, some arrayed in coats of 
 black velvet, with gold chains ; some in military suits of cloth of 
 gold, or cloth of silver, followed by all those craftsmen, who, having 
 hooted the father from Whitehall, had now come to shout the son 
 into possession of his ancestral palace. . On his progress through 
 Blackheath, he passed that army, which, so long formidable to 
 England herself, as well as to Europe, had been the means of re- 
 storing the Monarchy,- which their own hands had destroyed. As 
 the King passed the last files of this formidable host, he came to an 
 open part of the heath, where many persons of quality, with others 
 of inferior rank, had stationed themselves to gratulate him as 
 he passed towards the capital. 
 
 There was one group, however, which attracted peculiar attention 
 from those around, on account of the respect shown to the party by 
 
WOODSTOCK. 435 
 
 the soldiers who kept the ground, and who, whether Cavaliers or 
 Roundheads, seemed to contest emulously which should contribute 
 most to their accommodation ; for both the elder and younger 
 gentlemen of the party had been distinguished in the Civil War. 
 
 It was a family group, of which the principal figure was an old 
 man seated in a chair, having a complacent smile on his face, and a 
 tear swelling to his eye, as he saw the banners wave on in intermin- 
 able succession, and heard the multitude shouting the long-silenced 
 acclamation, " God save King Charles ! " His cheek was ashy 
 pale, and his long beard bleached like the thistle down ; his blue 
 eye was cloudless, yet it was obvious that its vision was failing. 
 His motions were feeble, and he spoke little, except when he an- 
 swered the prattle of his grandchildren, or asked a question of his 
 daughter, who sat beside him, matured in matronly beauty, or of 
 Colonel Everard, who stood behind. There, too, the stout yeoman, 
 Joceline Joliffe, still in his silvan dress, leaned, like a second 
 Benaiah, on the quarterstaff that had done the King good service 
 in its day, and his wife, a buxom matron as she had been a pretty 
 maiden, laughed at her own consequence ; and ever and anon 
 joined her shrill notes to the stentorian halloo which her husband 
 added to the general exclamation. 
 
 Three fine boys and two pretty girls prattled around their grand- 
 father, who made them such answers as suited their age, and re- 
 peatedly passed his withered hand over the fair locks of the little 
 darlings, while Alice, assisted by Wildrake, (blazing in a splendid 
 dress, and his eyes washed with only a single cup of canary,) took 
 off the children's attention from time to time, lest they should weary 
 their grandfather. We must not omit one other remarkable figure 
 in the group — a gigantic dog, which bore the signs of being at the 
 extremity of canine life, being perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. 
 But though exhibiting the ruin only of his former appearance, his 
 eyes dim, his joints stiff, his head slouched down, and his gallant 
 carriage and graceful motions exchanged for a stiff, rheumatic, 
 hobbling gait, the noble hound had lost none of his instinctive 
 fondness for his master. To lie by Sir Henry's feet in the summer 
 cr by the fire in winter, to raise his head to look on him, to lick his 
 withered hand or his shrivelled cheek from time to time, seemed 
 now all that Bevis lived for 
 
 Three or four livery-servants attended to protect this group from 
 the thronging multitude ; but it needed not. The high respect- 
 ability and unpretending simphcity of their appearance gave them, 
 even in the eyes of the coarsest of the people, an air of patriarchal 
 dignity, which commanded general regard ; and they sat upon the 
 bank which they had chosen for their station by the wayside, as 
 undisturbed ss if they had be^n in th^ir own pari;,, 
 
44° WOODSTOCK. 
 
 And now the distant clarions announced the Royal Presence. 
 Onward came pursuivant and trumpet — onward came plumes and 
 cloth of gold, and waving standards displayed, and swords gleaming 
 to the sun ; and at length, heading a group of the noblest in 
 England, and supported by his royal brothers on either side, 
 onward came King Charles. He had already halted more than 
 once, in kindness perhaps as well as policy, to exchange a word 
 with persons whom he recognised among the spectators, and the 
 shouts of the bystanders applauded a courtesy which seemed so 
 well timed. But when he had gazed an instant on the party we 
 have described, it was impossible, if even Alice had been too much 
 changed to be recognised, not instantly to know Bevis and his 
 venerable master. The Monarch sprung from his horse, and 
 walked instantly up to the old knight, amid thundering acclama- 
 tions which rose from the multitudes around, when they saw Charles 
 with his own hand oppose the feeble attempts of the old man to 
 rise to do him homage. Gently replacing him on his seat — " Bless," 
 he said, " father— bless your son, who has returned in safety, as you 
 blessed him when he departed in danger." 
 
 " IVIay God bless— and preserve " — muttered the old man, over- 
 come by his feelings ; and the King, to give him a few moments' 
 repose, turned to Alice — 
 
 " And you," he said, " my fair guide, how have you been employed 
 since our perilous night -walk.? But I need not ask," glancing 
 round — " in the service of King and Kingdom, bringing up subjects 
 as loyal as their ancestors. — A fair lineage, by my faith, and a 
 beautiful sight to the eye of an English King !— Colonel Everard, 
 we shall see you, I trust, at Whitehall ? " Here he nodded to 
 Wildrake. " And thou, Joceline, thou canst hold thy quarter-staff 
 with one hand, sure ? — Thrust forward the other palm." 
 
 Looking down in sheer bashfulness, Joceline, like a bull about to 
 push, extended to the King, over his lady's shoulder, a hand as 
 broad and hard as a wooden trencher, which the King filled with 
 gold coins. " Buy a headgear for my friend Phoebe with some of 
 these," said Charles ; " she too has been doing her duty to Old 
 England." 
 
 The King then turned once more to the knight, who seemed 
 making an effort to speak. He took his aged hand in both his 
 own, and stooped his head towards him to catch his accents, while 
 the old man, detaining him with the other hand, said something 
 faltering, of which Charles could only catch the quotation — 
 
 " Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, 
 And welcome home again discarded faith." 
 
 Extricating himself, therefore, as gently as possible, from a scene 
 

 
 W ^*^ -■ ' - - - 
 
 
 
WOODSTOCK. 441: 
 
 which began to grow painfully embarrassing, the good-n.itiu-cd 
 King said, speaking with unusual distinctness to ensure the old 
 man's comprehending him, " This is something too public a place 
 for all we have to say. But if you come not soon to see King 
 Charles at Whitehall, he will send down Louis Kerneguy to visit 
 you, that you may see how rational that mischievous lad is become 
 since his travels." 
 
 So saying, he once more pressed affectionately the old man's 
 hand, bowed to Alice and all around, and withdrew ; Sir Henry Lee 
 listening with a smile, which showed he comprehended the gracious 
 tendency of what had been said. The old man leaned back on his 
 seat, and muttered the Ntinc dimiitas. 
 
 " Excuse me for having made you wait, my lords," said the King, 
 as he mounted his horse ; " Indeed, had it not been for these good 
 folks, you might have waited for me long enough to little purpose. 
 — Move on, sirs." 
 
 The array moved on accordingly ; the sound of trumpets and 
 drums again rose amid the acclamations, which had been silent 
 -while the King stopped ; while the effect of the whole procession 
 resuming its motion, was so splendidly dazzling, that even Alice's 
 anxiety about her father's health was for a moment suspended, 
 while her eye followed the long line of varied brilliancy that pro- 
 ceeded over the heath. When she looked again at Sir Henry, she 
 was startled to see that his cheek, which had gained some colour 
 during his conversation with the King, had relapsed into earthy 
 paleness ; that his eyes were closed, and opened not again ; and 
 that his features expressed, amid their quietude, a rigidity which is 
 not that of sleep. They ran to his assistance, but it was too late. 
 The light that burned so low in the socket, had leaped up, and 
 expired, in one exhilarating flash. 
 
 The rest must be conceived. I have only to add that his faithful 
 dog did not survive him many days ; and that the image of Bevis 
 lies carved at his master's feet, on the tomb which was erected to 
 the Memory of Sir Henry Lee of Ditchley.* 
 
NOTES TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 * p. 9. — Probably this part was also 
 played by Sharp, who *as the regular 
 ghost-seer of the party. 
 
 * P. 10. — In his Natural History of 
 Oxfordshire. 
 
 * P. 12. — See Appendix. 
 
 * P. 33. — This Survey of Woodstock 
 is appended to the preceding pamph- 
 let. 
 
 * P. 33.— It is hardly necessary to say, 
 unless to some readers of very hteral 
 capacity, that Dr. Rochecliffe and his 
 manuscripts are alike apocryphal. 
 
 * P. 36. — Drayton's England's Hero- 
 ical Epistles, Note A., on the Epistle, 
 Rosamond to King Henry. 
 
 * P. 41. — This custom among the 
 Puritans is mentioned often in old 
 plays, and among others in the Widow 
 of Watling Street. 
 
 * P. 41. — See a curious vindication of 
 this indecent simile here for the Com- 
 mon Prayer, in the following Note. 
 
 * P. 45. — Vindication of the 
 Book of Common Prayer, against 
 
 THE contumelious SLANDERS OF 
 
 THE Fanatic Party terming it 
 Porridge. — The author of this sin- 
 gular, and rare tract indulges in the 
 allegorical style, till he fairly -hunts 
 down the allegory. 
 
 " But as for what you call porridge, 
 who hatched the name I know not, 
 neither is it worth the enquiring after, 
 for I hold porridge good food. It is 
 better to a sick man than meat, for a 
 sick man will sooner eat pottage than 
 meat. Pottage will digest with him 
 when meat will not ; pottage will 
 nourish the blood, fill the veins, run 
 into every part of a man, make him 
 warmer ; so will these prayers do, set 
 our soul and body in a heat, warm 
 our devotion, work fervency in us, 
 lift up our soul to God. For there 
 be herbs of God's own planting in 
 our pottage as you call it— the 
 Ten Commandments, dainty herbs 
 to season any pottage in the world ; 
 there is the Lord's Prayer, and 
 
 that is a most sweet pot-herb cannot 
 be denied ; then there is also David's 
 herbs, his prayers and psalms, helps 
 to make our pottage relish well ; the 
 psalm of the Blessed Virgin, a good 
 pot-herb. Though they be, as some 
 term them, cod-crowed pottage, yet 
 they are as sweet, as good, as dainty, 
 and as fresh, as they were at the first. 
 The sun hath not made them sour 
 with its heat, neither hath the cold 
 water taken away their vigour and 
 strength. Compare them with the 
 Scriptures, and see if they be riot as 
 well seasoned and crumbed. If you 
 find any thing in them that is either 
 too salt, too fresh, or too bitter, that 
 herb shall be taken out and better put 
 in, if it can be got, or none. And as 
 in kitchen pottage there are many 
 good herbs, so there is likewise in this 
 church pottage, as you call it. For 
 first, there is in kitchen pottage good 
 water to make them ; so, on the con- 
 trary, in the other pottage there is the 
 water of life. 2. 'There is salt to sea- 
 son them ; so in the other is a prayer 
 of grace to season their hearts. 3. 
 There is oatmeal to nourish the body, 
 in the other is the bread of life. 4. 
 There is time in them to relish them, 
 and it is very wholesome — in the other 
 is the wholesome exhortation not to 
 harden our heart while it is called to- 
 day. This rehsheth well. g. There 
 is a small onion to give a taste — in the 
 other is a good herb, called Lord have 
 mercy on us. These, and many other 
 holy herbs are contained in it, all boil- 
 ing in the heart of man, will make as 
 good pottage as the world can afford, 
 especially if you use these herbs for 
 digestion, — the herb repentance, the 
 herb grace, the herb faith, the herb 
 love, the herb hope, the herb good 
 works, the herb feeling, the herb zeal, 
 the herb fervency, the herb ardenty, 
 the herb constancy, with many more 
 of this nature, most excellent for di- 
 gestion." 0/ie/ fam satis. In this 
 
444 
 
 NOTES TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 manner the learned divine hunts his 
 metaphor at a very cold scent, 
 through a pamphlet of six mortal 
 quarto pages, 
 
 * P. 6i. — The keeper's followers in the 
 New Forest are called in popular lan- 
 guage ragged Robins. 
 
 * P. 78. — The story occurs, I think, 
 in Froissart's Chronicles. 
 
 * P. 108. — A puritanic character in one 
 of Beaumont and Fletcher's plays. 
 
 * P. 197. — Rere-suppers (quasi arrih-e) 
 belonged to a species of luxury intro- 
 duced in the jolly days of King 
 James's extravagance, and continued 
 through the subsequent reign. The 
 supper took place at an early hour, 
 six or seven o'clock at latest — the 
 rere-supper was a posthminary 
 banquet, a hors d'ceuvre, which made 
 its appearance at ten or eleven, and 
 served as an apology for prolonging 
 the entertainment till midnight. 
 
 * P. 213. — Dr. Michael Hudson.— 
 Michael Hudson, the plain-dealing 
 chaplain of King Charles I., re- 
 sembled, in his loyalty to that unfor- 
 tunate monarch, the fictitious charac- 
 ter of Doctor Rochecliffe ; and the 
 circumstances of his death were copied 
 in the narrative of the Presbyterian's 
 account of the slaughter of his school- 
 fellow ; — he was chosen by Charles I., 
 along with John Ashbumham, as his 
 guide and attendant, when he adopted 
 the ill-advised resolution of surrender- 
 ing his person to the Scots army. 
 
 He was taken prisoner by the Par- 
 liament, remained longin their custody, 
 and was treated with great severity. 
 He made his escape for about a year 
 in 1647 ; was retaken, and again 
 escaped in 1648, and, heading an in- 
 surrection of cavaliers, seized on a 
 strong moated house in Lincolnshire, 
 called Woodford House. He gained 
 the place without resistance ; and 
 there are among Peck's Desiderata 
 Curiosa several accounts of his death, 
 among which we shall transcribe that 
 of Bishop Kenneth, as the most correct 
 and concise : — 
 
 "I have been on the spot," saith 
 his Lordship, "and made all possible 
 enquiries, and find that the relation 
 given by Mr. Wood may be a Uttle 
 rectified and supplied. 
 
 " Mr. Hudson and his party did 
 not fly to Woodford, but had quietly 
 taken possession of it, and held it for 
 a garrison, with a good party of 
 horse, who made a stout defence, and 
 
 frequent sallies, against a party of the 
 Parliament at Stamford, till the colonel 
 commanding them sent a stronger de- 
 tachment, under a captain, his own 
 kinsman, who was shot from the 
 house, upon which the colonel-himself 
 came up to renew the attack, and to 
 demand surrendry, and brought them 
 to capitulate upon terms of safe quar- 
 ter. But the colonel, in base revenge, 
 commanded that they should not 
 spare that rogue Hudson. Upon 
 which Hudson fought his way up to 
 the leads ; and when he saw they were 
 pushing in upon him, threw himself 
 over the battlements (another account 
 says, he caught hold of a spout or 
 outstone), and hung by the hands as 
 intending to fall into the moat be- 
 neath, till they cut off his vn'ists and 
 let him drop, and then ran down to 
 hunt him in the water, where they 
 found him paddling with his stumps, 
 and barbarously knocked him on the 
 head." — Peck's Desiderata Curiosa, 
 Book ix. 
 
 Other accoimts mention he was 
 refused the poor charity of coming to 
 die on land, by one Egborough, ser- 
 vant to Mr. Spinks, the intruder into 
 the parsonage. A man called Walker, 
 a chandler or grocer, cut out the 
 tongue of the unfortunate divine, and 
 showed it as a trophy through the 
 country. But it was remarked, with 
 vindictive satisfaction, that Egborough 
 was killed by the bursting of his own 
 gun ; and that Wallcer, obliged to 
 abandon his trade through poverty, 
 became a scorned mendicant. 
 
 For some time a grave was not 
 vouchsafed to the remains of this 
 brave and loyal divine, till one of 
 the other party said, "Since he is 
 dead, let him be buried." 
 * P. 250. — Cannibalism imputed to 
 THE Cavaliers.— The terrors pre- 
 ceding the civil wars, which agitated 
 the public mind, rendered the gross- 
 est and most exaggerated falsehoods 
 current among the people. When 
 Charles I. appointed Sir Thomas 
 Lunsford to the situation of Lord 
 Lieutenant of the Tower, the cele- 
 brated John LillbiuTi takes to himself 
 the credit of exciting the public hatred 
 against this officer and Lord Digby, 
 as pitiless bravoes of the most bloody- 
 minded description, from whom the 
 people were to e.xpect nothing but 
 bloodshed and massacre. Of Sir 
 Thonias Lunsford, in particular, it 
 
NOTES TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 44S 
 
 was reported that his favourite food 
 was the flesh of children, and he was 
 painted lilce an ogre in the act of 
 cutdng a child into steaks and broiling 
 them. The colonel fell at the siege 
 of Bristol in 1643, ti"t the same 
 caUimny pursued his remains, and the 
 credulous multitude were told, 
 
 " The post who came from Coventry, 
 Riding in a red rocket. 
 Did tidings tell how Lunsford fell, 
 A chila's hand in his fockct." 
 
 Many allusions to this report, as 
 well as to the credulity of those who 
 believed it, may be found in the satires 
 and lampoons of the time, although, 
 says Dr, Grey, Lunsford was a man 
 of great sobriety, industry, and cou- 
 rage. Butler says, that the preachers 
 
 "Made children with their lives to 
 run for't. 
 As bad as Bloodybones or Luns- 
 ford." 
 
 But this extraordinary report is 
 chiefly insisted upon in a comedy 
 called the Old Troop, written by John 
 Lacy, the comedian. The scene is 
 laid during the civil wars of England, 
 and the persons of the drama are 
 chiefly those who were in arms for the 
 king. They are represented as plun- 
 dering the country without mercy, 
 which Lary might draw from the life, 
 having, in fact, begim his career as a 
 lieutenant of cavalry, in the service of 
 Charles \. The troopers find the 
 peasants loath to surrender to them 
 their provisions, on which, in order to 
 compel them, they pretend to be in 
 earnest in the purpose of eating the 
 children. A scene of coarse but hu- 
 morous comedy is then introduced, 
 which Dean Swift had not, perhaps, 
 forgotten, when he recommended the 
 eating of the children of the poor as a 
 mode of reUeving the distresses of their 
 parents. 
 
 "Lieutenant. Second me, and I'll 
 make them bring out all they have, I 
 warrant you. Do but talk as if we 
 used to eat children. — Why, look you, 
 good woman, we do believe you are 
 poor, so we'll make a shift with our 
 old diet — you have children in the 
 town? 
 
 " Woman. Why do you ask, sir? 
 
 •'Lieutenant. Only have two or 
 three to supper. Flea-flint, you have 
 the best way of cooking children. 
 
 "Flea-flint. I can powder them 
 to make you taste your liquor. I am 
 never without a dried child's tongue 
 or ham. 
 
 " Woman. Oh I bless me I 
 
 ' ■ Flea-flint. Mine's but the ordi- 
 nary way ; but Foordfarm is the man ; 
 he makes you the savouriest pie of a 
 child chaldron that was ever eat. 
 
 ' ' Lieutenant. A plague ! all the 
 world cannot cook a child like Mr. 
 Raggou, [a French cook or messman 
 to the troop, and the buffoon of the 
 piecej 
 
 ' ' Raggou. Begar me think so ; 
 for vat was me bred in the King of 
 Mogol's kitchen ? dere we kill twenty 
 shild of a day. Take you one shild 
 by both his two heels, and put his 
 head between your two knees, and take 
 your knife and slice off all buttocks, — 
 so fashion ; begar, that make a de 
 best Scots collop in de world. 
 
 "Lieutenant. Ah, he makes the 
 best pottage of a child's head and 
 feet, however ; but you must boil it 
 with bacon — Woman, you must get 
 bacon. ' 
 
 " Woman. O Lud — yes, sir ! 
 
 ' ' Ford. And then it must be very 
 young. 
 
 "Lieutenant. Yes, yes.— Good wo- 
 man, it must be a fine squab child, of 
 half a year old — a man child, dost 
 hear ? "— The Old Troop, Act III. 
 
 After a good deal more to this 
 purpose, the villagers determine to 
 carry forth their sheep, poultry, &c., 
 to save their children. In the mean- 
 time, the Cavaliers are in some danger 
 of being cross-bit, as they then called 
 it ; that is, caught in their own snare. 
 A woman enters, who announces her- 
 self thus : — 
 
 " Woman. By your leave, your 
 good worships, I have made bold to 
 bring you in some provisions. 
 
 ' ' Ford. Provisions ! where, where 
 is this provision? '•' 
 
 " Woman. Here, if it please you, 
 I have brought you_a couple of fine 
 fleshy children. 
 
 ' ' Cornet. Was ever such a horrid 
 woman ! what shall we do ? 
 
 " Woman. Truly, gentlemen, they 
 are fine squab children : shall I turn 
 them up? — ^they have the bravest brawn 
 . and buttocks. 
 
 ' ' Lieutenant. No, no ; but, wo- 
 man, art thou not troubled to part 
 with thy children ? 
 
 " Woman. Alas, sir, they are none 
 
446 
 
 NOTES TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 of mine, they are only nurse chil- 
 dren. 
 
 ' ' Lieutenant. What a beast is this ! 
 — whose children are they? 
 
 " Woman. A laundress that owes 
 me for a year's nursing ; I hope they'll 
 prove excellent meat ; they are twins 
 too. 
 
 •' Raggou. Aha, but I but begar 
 we never eat no twin shild, the law 
 forbid that." — Ibidem. 
 
 In this manner the CavaUers escape 
 from the embarrassing consequences 
 of their own stratagem, which, as the 
 reader will perceive, has been made 
 use of in the preceding chapter. 
 
 * P. 280. — This melancholy story may 
 be found in the Guardiaii. An in- 
 trigue of Lord Sackville, afterwards 
 Karl of Dorset, was the cause of the 
 fatal duel. 
 
 * P. 301. — This gossiping tale is to be 
 found in the variorum Shakspeare. 
 D'Avenant did not much mind throw- 
 ing out hints in which he sacrificed his 
 mother's character to his desire of 
 being held a descendant from the 
 admirable Shakspeare. 
 
 * P. 302. — D'Avenant actually wanted 
 the nose, the foundation of many a 
 jest of the day. 
 
 * P. 302. — ^We observe this couplet in 
 Fielding's farce of Tumbledawn-Dick, 
 founded on the same classical story. 
 As it was current in the time of the 
 Commonwealth, it must have reached 
 the author of Tovi Jo7ies by tradition — 
 for no one will suspect the present 
 author of making the anachronism. 
 
 * P. 340. — A sort of court name for a 
 female of no reputation. 
 
 * P. 343. — The quotations of the 
 learned doctor and antiquary were 
 often left uninterpreted, though seldom 
 uncommunicated, owing to his con- 
 tempt for those who did not under- 
 stand the learned languages, and his 
 dislike to the labour of translation, for 
 the benefit of ladies and of country 
 gentlemen. That fair readers and 
 rural thanes may not on this occasion 
 burst in ignorance, we add the mean- 
 ing of the passage in the text — ' ' Vir- 
 tue requires the aid of a governor and 
 director ; vices are learned without a 
 teacher." 
 
 * P. 344. — Tales of Mother Goose. 
 
 * P. .347 — TheFamilists were originally 
 founded by David George of Delft, an 
 enthusiast, who believed himself the 
 Messiah. They branched off into 
 various sects of Grindletonians, Fami- 
 
 hsts of the Mountains, of the 'Valleys ; 
 Familists of Cape Order, &c., &c., of 
 the Scattered Flock, &c., &c. Among 
 doctrines, too wild and foul to be 
 quoted, they held the lawfulness of 
 occasional conformity with any pre- 
 dominant sect when it suited their 
 convenience, of complying with the 
 order of any magistrate, or superior 
 power, however sinful. , They dis- 
 owned the principal doctrines of 
 Christianity, as a law which had been 
 superseded by the advent of David 
 George — nay, obeyed the wildest and 
 loosest dictates of evil passions, and 
 are said to have practised among them- 
 selves the grossest libertinism. -See 
 Edward's Gangrcena, Pagitt's Heresio- 
 graphia, and a very curious work 
 written by Ludovic Claxton, one of 
 the leaders of the sect, called the Lost 
 Sheep Found, — Small quarto, London, 
 1660. 
 
 * P. 370. — Patrick Carey.— "You 
 do not know Patrick Carey, "says King 
 Charles in thenovel ; and, what is more 
 singular, Patrick Carey has had two 
 editors, each unknown ahke to the 
 other, except by name only. In 1771, 
 Mr. John Murray published Carey's 
 poems, from a coUectiou said to be 
 in the hands of the Rev. Mr. Pierspoint 
 Crimp. A very probable conjecture 
 is stated, that the author was only 
 known to private friendship. As late 
 as 1819, the Author of Waverley, 
 ignorant of the edition of 1771, pub- 
 hshed a second quarto from an elaborate 
 manuscript, though in bad order, ap- 
 parently the autograph of the first. Of 
 Carey, the second editor, like the first, 
 only knew the name and the spirit of 
 the verses. He has since been enabled 
 to Ascertain, that the poetic cavaher 
 was ayounger brother of the celebrated 
 Henry Lord Carey, who fell at the 
 battle of Newbery, and escaped the 
 researches of Horace Walpole, to 
 whose list of noble authors he would 
 have been an important addition. So 
 completely has the fame of the great 
 Lord Falkland echpsed that of his 
 brothers, that this brother Patrick has 
 been overlooked even by genealogists. 
 
 * P. 370. — The original song of Carey 
 bears Wykeham, instead of Wood- 
 stock, for the locality. The verses are 
 full of the bacchanalian spirit of the 
 time. 
 
 * P. 378.— Signal of Danger by the 
 Token of a Feather. — On a par- 
 ticular occasion, a lady, siKpecting; by 
 
NOTES TO WOODSTOCK. 
 
 447 
 
 the passage ofabodyof guards through 
 her estate, that the arrest of her neigh- 
 bour, Patrick Home of Polwarth, 
 afterwards first Earl of Marchmont, 
 was designed, sent him a feather by a 
 shepherd boy, whom she dared not 
 trust with a mcirc explicit message. 
 Danger sliarpens the intellect, and this 
 hint was the commencement of those 
 romantic adventures which gave Griz- 
 zel Lady Murray the materials from 
 which she compiled her account of her 
 grandfather's escape, published by Mr. 
 Thomas Thomson, Deputy Register of 
 Scotland. The anecdote of the feather 
 does not occur there, but the author 
 has often heard it from the late Lady 
 Diana Scott, the lineal descendant 
 and representative of Patrick Earl of 
 Marchmont. 
 
 * P. 405. — " But mortal pleasure, what 
 
 art thou in truth ? 
 The torrent's smoothness ere 
 it dashed below." 
 Campbell's Gertrude 
 of Wyoming. 
 
 * P. 412. — "Lance-prisade,"or "lance- 
 brisade," a private appointed to a 
 small command — a sort of temporary 
 corporal. 
 
 * P. 416. — Tredagh, or Drogheda, was 
 
 taken by Cromwell in 1649, by stoim, 
 and the governor and whole garrison 
 put to the sword. 
 ' P. 422. — A halfpenny, 
 
 * P. 422. — Hang on the gallows. 
 
 * P. 423. — Such a song, or something 
 very like it, may be found in Ramsay's 
 Tea-table Miscellany, among the wild 
 slips of minstrelsy which are there col- 
 lected. 
 
 * P. 44 1. — It may interest some readers 
 to know, that Bevis, the gallant hound, 
 one of the handsomest and active of 
 the ancient Highland deer-hounds, had 
 his prototype in a dog called Maida, 
 the gift of the late Chief of Glengarry 
 to the author. A beautiful sketch of 
 him was made by Edwin Landseer, 
 and afterwards engraved. I cannot 
 suppress the avowal of some personal 
 vanity when I mention, that a friend, 
 going through Munich, picked up a 
 common snuffbox, such as are sold for 
 one franc, on which was displayed the 
 form of this veteran favourite, simply 
 marked as Der lieblung hund von 
 Walter Scott. Mr. Landseer's paint- 
 ing is at Blair-Adara, the property of 
 my venerable friend, the Right Hon- 
 ourable Lord Chief Commissioner 
 Adam. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BEAUBUKY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFELIKS. 
 
CORNELL UNIVERSITY 
 DEPT OF PRES. & CONSERVATION 
 
 Job#