الفصل الفصل 18 · Of Master Stephen Timewell, Mayor of Taunton

Within the town-hall all was bustle and turmoil. At one side behind a

low table covered with green baize sat two scriveners with great rolls

of paper in front of them. A long line of citizens passed slowly before

them, each in turn putting down a roll or bag of coins which was duly

noted by the receivers. A square iron-bound chest stood by their side,

into which the money was thrown, and we noted as we passed that it was

half full of gold pieces. We could not but mark that many of the givers

were men whose threadbare doublets and pinched faces showed that the

wealth which they were dashing down so readily must have been hoarded up

for such a purpose, at the cost of scanty fare and hard living. Most of

them accompanied their gift by a few words of prayer, or by some pithy

text anent the treasure which rusteth not, or the lending to the Lord.

The town clerk stood by the table giving forth the vouchers for each

sum, and the constant clack of his tongue filled the hall, as he read

aloud the names and amounts, with his own remarks between.

‘Abraham Willis,’ he shouted as we entered; ‘put him down twenty-six

pounds and ten shillings. You shall receive ten per centum upon this

earth, Master Willis, and I warrant that it shall not be forgotten

hereafter. John Standish, two pounds. William Simons, two guineas.

Stand-fast Healing, forty-five pounds. That is a rare blow which you

have struck into the ribs of Prelacy, good Master Healing. Solomon

Warren, five guineas. James White, five shillings--the widow’s mite,

James! Thomas Bakewell, ten pounds. Nay, Master Bakewell, surely out of

three farms on the banks of Tone, and grazing land in the fattest part

of Athelney, you can spare more than this for the good cause. We shall

doubtless see you again. Alderman Smithson, ninety pounds. Aha! There is

a slap for the scarlet woman! A few more such and her throne shall be a

ducking-stool. We shall break her down, worthy Master Smithson, even as

Jehu, the son of Nimshi, broke down the house of Baal.’ So he babbled on

with praise, precept, and rebuke, though the grave and solemn burghers

took little notice of his empty clamour.

At the other side of the hall were several long wooden drinking-troughs,

which were used for the storing of pikes and scythes. Special messengers

and tithing-men had been sent out to scour the country for arms, who,

as they returned, placed their prizes here under the care of the

armourer-general. Besides the common weapons of the peasants there was a

puncheon half full of pistols and petronels, together with a good number

of muskets, screw-guns, snaphances, birding-pieces, and carbines, with

a dozen bell-mouthed brass blunderbusses, and a few old-fashioned

wall-pieces, such as sakers and culverins taken from the manor-houses of

the county. From the walls and the lumber-rooms of these old dwellings

many other arms had been brought to light which were doubtless esteemed

as things of price by our forefathers, but which would seem strange to

your eyes in these days, when a musket may be fired once in every two

minutes, and will carry a ball to a distance of four hundred paces.

There were halberds, battle-axes, morning stars, brown bills, maces, and

ancient coats of chain mail, which might even now save a man from sword

stroke or pike thrust.

In the midst of the coming and the going stood Master Timewell, the

Mayor, ordering all things like a skilful and provident commander. I

could understand the trust and love which his townsmen had for him, as

I watched him labouring with all the wisdom of an old man and the

blithesomeness of a young one. He was hard at work as we approached in

trying the lock of a falconet; but perceiving us, he came forward and

saluted us with much kindliness.

‘I have heard much of ye,’ said he; ‘how ye caused the faithful to

gather to a head, and so beat off the horsemen of the usurper. It will

not be the last time, I trust, that ye shall see their backs. I hear,

Colonel Saxon, that ye have seen much service abroad.’

‘I have been the humble tool of Providence in much good work,’

said Saxon, with a bow. ‘I have fought with the Swedes against the

Brandenburgers, and again with the Brandenburgers against the Swedes, my

time and conditions with the latter having been duly carried out. I

have afterwards in the Bavarian service fought against Swedes and

Brandenburgers combined, besides having undergone the great wars on the

Danube against the Turk, and two campaigns with the Messieurs in the

Palatinate, which latter might be better termed holiday-making than

fighting.’

‘A soldierly record in very truth,’ cried the Mayor, stroking his white

beard. ‘I hear that you are also powerfully borne onwards in prayer and

song. You are, I perceive, one of the old breed of ‘44, Colonel--the men

who were in the saddle all day, and on their knees half the night. When

shall we see the like of them again? A few such broken wrecks as I are

left, with the fire of our youth all burned out and nought left but the

ashes of lethargy and lukewarmness.’

‘Nay, nay,’ said Saxon, ‘your position and present business will scarce

jump with the modesty of your words. But here are young men who will

find the fire if their elders bring the brains. This is Captain Micah

Clarke, and Captain Lockarby, and Captain the Honourable Sir Gervas

Jerome, who have all come far to draw their swords for the downtrodden

faith.’

‘Taunton welcomes ye, young sirs,’ said the Mayor, looking a

trifle askance, as I thought, at the baronet, who had drawn out his

pocket-mirror, and was engaged in the brushing of his eyebrows. ‘I trust

that during your stay in this town ye will all four take up your abode

with me. ‘Tis a homely roof and simple fare, but a soldier’s wants are

few. And now, Colonel, I would fain have your advice as to these three

drakes, whether if rehooped they may be deemed fit for service; and also

as to these demi-cannons, which were used in the old Parliamentary days,

and may yet have a word to say in the people’s cause.’

The old soldier and the Puritan instantly plunged into a deep

and learned disquisition upon the merits of wall-pieces, drakes,

demi-culverins, sakers, minions, mortar-pieces, falcons, and

pattereroes, concerning all which pieces of ordnance Saxon had strong

opinions to offer, fortified by many personal hazards and experiences.

He then dwelt upon the merits of fire-arrows and fire-pikes in the

attack or defence of places of strength, and had finally begun to

descant upon sconces, ‘directis lateribus,’ and upon works, semilunar,

rectilineal, horizontal, or orbicular, with so many references to his

Imperial Majesty’s lines at Gran, that it seemed that his discourse

would never find an end. We slipped away at last, leaving him still

discussing the effects produced by the Austrian grenadoes upon a

Bavarian brigade of pikes at the battle of Ober-Graustock.

‘Curse me if I like accepting this old fellow’s offer,’ said Sir Gervas,

in an undertone. ‘I have heard of these Puritan households. Much grace

to little sack, and texts flying about as hard and as jagged as flint

stones. To bed at sundown, and a sermon ready if ye do but look kindly

at the waiting-wench or hum the refrain of a ditty.’

‘His home may be larger, but it could scarce be stricter than that of my

own father,’ I remarked.

‘I’ll warrant that,’ cried Reuben. ‘When we have been a morris-dancing,

or having a Saturday night game of “kiss-in-the-ring,” or

“parson-has-lost-his-coat,” I have seen Ironside Joe stride past us, and

cast a glance at us which hath frozen the smile upon our lips. I warrant

that he would have aided Colonel Pride to shoot the bears and hack down

the maypoles.’

‘’Twere fratricide for such a man to shoot a bear,’ quoth Sir Gervas,

‘with all respect, friend Clarke, for your honoured progenitor.’

‘No more than for you to shoot at a popinjay,’ I answered, laughing;

‘but as to the Mayor’s offer, we can but go to meat with him now, and

should it prove irksome it will be easy for you to plead some excuse,

and so get honourably quit of it. But bear in mind, Sir Gervas, that

such households are in very truth different to any with which you are

acquainted, so curb your tongue or offence may come of it. Should I cry

“hem!” or cough, it will be a sign to you that you had best beware.’

‘Agreed, young Solomon!’ cried he. ‘It is, indeed, well to have a pilot

like yourself who knows these godly waters. For my own part, I should

never know how near I was to the shoals. But our friends have finished

the battle of Ober what’s its name, and are coming towards us. I trust,

worthy Mr. Mayor, that your difficulties have been resolved?’

‘They are, sir,’ replied the Puritan. ‘I have been much edified by your

Colonel’s discourse, and I have little doubt that by serving under him

ye will profit much by his ripe experience.’

‘Very like, sir, very like,’ said Sir Gervas carelessly.

‘But it is nigh one o’clock,’ the Mayor continued, ‘our frail flesh

cries aloud for meat and drink. I beg that ye will do me the favour to

accompany me to my humble dwelling, where we shall find the household

board already dressed.’

With these words he led the way out of the hall and paced slowly down

Fore Street, the people falling back to right and to left as he passed,

and raising their caps to do him reverence. Here and there, as he

pointed out to us, arrangements had been made for barring the road with

strong chains to prevent any sudden rush of cavalry. In places, too, at

the corner of a house, a hole had been knocked in the masonry through

which peeped the dark muzzle of a carronade or wall-piece. These

precautions were the more necessary as several bodies of the Royal

Horse, besides the one which we had repulsed, were known to be within

the Deane, and the town, deprived of its ramparts, was open to an

incursion from any daring commander.

The chief magistrate’s house was a squat square-faced stone building

within a court which opened on to East Street. The peaked oak door,

spangled with broad iron nails, had a gloomy and surly aspect, but

the hall within was lightful and airy, with a bright polished cedar

planking, and high panelling of some dark-grained wood which gave forth

a pleasant smell as of violets. A broad night of steps rose up from the

farther end of the hall, down which as we entered a young sweet-faced

maid came tripping, with an old dame behind her, who bore in her hands a

pile of fresh napery. At the sight of us the elder one retreated up the

stairs again, whilst the younger came flying down three steps at a

time, threw her arms round the old Mayor’s neck, and kissed him fondly,

looking hard into his face the while, as a mother gazes into that of a

child with whom she fears that aught may have gone amiss.

‘Weary again, daddy, weary again,’ she said, shaking her head anxiously,

with a small white hand upon each of his shoulders. ‘Indeed, and indeed,

thy spirit is greater than thy strength.’

‘Nay, nay, lass,’ said he, passing his hand fondly over her rich brown

hair. The workman must toil until the hour of rest is rung. This,

gentlemen, is my granddaughter Ruth, the sole relic of my family and the

light of mine old age. The whole grove hath been cut down, and only the

oldest oak and the youngest sapling left. These cavaliers, little one,

have come from afar to serve the cause, and they have done us the honour

to accept of our poor hospitality.’

‘Ye are come in good time, gentlemen,’ she answered, looking us straight

in the eyes with a kindly smile as a sister might greet her brothers.

‘The household is gathered round the table and the meal is ready.’

‘But not more ready than we,’ cried the stout old burgher. ‘Do thou

conduct our guests to their places, whilst I seek my room and doff these

robes of office, with my chain and tippet, ere I break my fast.’

Following our fair guide we passed into a very large and lofty room, the

walls of which were wainscoted with carved oak, and hung at either end

with tapestry. The floor was tesselated after the French fashion, and

plentifully strewn with skins and rugs. At one end of the apartment

stood a great white marble fireplace, like a small room in itself,

fitted up, as was the ancient custom, with an iron stand in the centre,

and with broad stone benches in the recess on either side. Lines of

hooks above the chimneypiece had been used, as I surmise, to support

arms, for the wealthy merchants of England were wont to keep enough in

their houses to at least equip their apprentices and craftsmen. They

had now, however, been removed, nor was there any token of the troublous

times save a single heap of pikes and halberds piled together in a

corner.

Down the centre of this room there ran a long and massive table, which

was surrounded by thirty or forty people, the greater part of whom were

men. They were on their feet as we entered, and a grave-faced man at the

farther end was drawling forth an interminable grace, which began as a

thanksgiving for food, but wandered away into questions of Church and

State, and finally ended in a supplication for Israel now in arms to do

battle for the Lord. While this was proceeding we stood in a group

by the door with our caps doffed, and spent our time in observing the

company more closely than we could have done with courtesy had their

eyes not been cast down and their thoughts elsewhere.

They were of all ages, from greybeards down to lads scarce out of their

teens, all with the same solemn and austere expression of countenance,

and clad in the same homely and sombre garb. Save their wide white

collars and cuffs, not a string of any colour lessened the sad severity

of their attire. Their black coats and doublets were cut straight and

close, and their cordovan leather shoes, which in the days of our youth

were usually the seat of some little ornament, were uniformly square

toed and tied with sad-coloured ribbon. Most of them wore plain

sword-belts of untanned hide, but the weapons themselves, with their

broad felt hats and black cloaks, were laid under the benches or placed

upon the settles which lined the walls. They stood with their hands

clasped and their heads bent, listening to the untimely address, and

occasionally by some groan or exclamation testifying that the preacher’s

words had moved them.

The overgrown grace came at last to an end, when the company sat

silently down, and proceeded without pause or ceremony to attack the

great joints which smoked before them. Our young hostess led us to the

end of the table, where a high carded chair with a black cushion upon it

marked the position of the master of the house. Mistress Timewell seated

herself upon the right of the Mayor’s place, with Sir Gervas beside her,

while the post of honour upon the left was assigned to Saxon. On my left

sat Lockarby, whose eyes I observed had been fixed in undisguised and

all-absorbing admiration upon the Puritan maiden from the first moment

that he had seen her. The table was of no great breadth, so that we

could talk across in spite of the clatter of plates and dishes, the

bustle of servants, and the deep murmur of voices.

‘This is my father’s household,’ said our hostess, addressing herself to

Saxon. ‘There is not one of them who is not in his employ. He hath many

apprentices in the wool trade. We sit down forty to meat every day in

the year.’

‘And to right good fare, too,’ quoth Saxon, glancing down the table.

‘Salmon, ribs of beef, loin of mutton, veal, pasties--what could man

wish for more? Plenty of good home-brewed, too, to wash it down. If

worthy Master Timewell can arrange that the army be victualled after the

same fashion, I for one shell be beholden to him. A cup of dirty water

and a charred morsel cooked on a ramrod over the camp fire are like to

take the place of these toothsome dainties.’

‘Is it not best to have faith?’ said the Puritan maiden. ‘Shall not the

Almighty feed His soldiers even as Elisha was fed in the wilderness and

Hagar in the desert?’

‘Aye,’ exclaimed a lanky-haired, swarthy young man who sat upon the

right of Sir Gervas, ‘he will provide for us, even as the stream of

water gushed forth out of dry places, even as the quails and the manna

lay thick upon barren soil.’

‘So I trust, young sir,’ quoth Saxon, ‘but we must none the less arrange

a victual-train, with a staff of wains, duly numbered, and an intendant

over each, after the German fashion. Such things should not be left to

chance.’

Pretty Mistress Timewell glanced up with a half startled look at this

remark, as though shocked at the want of faith implied in it. Her

thoughts might have taken the form of words had not her father entered

the room at the moment, the whole company rising and bowing to him as he

advanced to his seat.

‘Be seated, friends,’ said he, with a wave of his hand; ‘we are a homely

folk, Colonel Saxon, and the old-time virtue of respect for our elders

has not entirely forsaken us. I trust, Ruth,’ he continued, ‘that thou

hast seen to the wants of our guests.’

We all protested that we had never received such attention and

hospitality.

‘’Tis well, ‘tis well,’ said the good wool-worker. ‘But your plates are

clear and your glasses empty. William, look to it! A good workman

is ever a good trencherman. If a ‘prentice of mine cannot clean his

platter, I know that I shall get little from him with carder and teazel.

Thew and sinew need building up. A slice from that round of beef,

William! Touching that same battle of Ober-Graustock, Colonel, what part

was played in the fray by that regiment of Pandour horse, in which, as I

understand, thou didst hold a commission?’

This was a question on which, as may be imagined, Saxon had much to say,

and the pair were soon involved in a heated discussion, in which the

experiences of Roundway Down and Marston Moor were balanced against the

results of a score of unpronounceable fights in the Styrian Alps and

along the Danube. Stephen Timewell in his lusty youth had led first

a troop and then a regiment through the wars of the Parliament, from

Chalgrove Field to the final battle at Worcester, so that his warlike

passages, though less varied and extensive than those of our companion,

were enough to enable him to form and hold strong opinions. These were

in the main the same as those of the soldier of fortune, but when their

ideas differed upon any point, there arose forthwith such a cross-fire

of military jargon, such speech of estacados and palisados, such

comparisons of light horse and heavy, of pikemen and musqueteers,

of Lanzknechte, Leaguers, and on-falls, that the unused ear became

bewildered with the babble. At last, on some question of fortification,

the Mayor drew his outworks with the spoons and knives, on which Saxon

opened his parallels with lines of bread, and pushing them rapidly

up with traverses and covered ways, he established himself upon the

re-entering angle of the Mayor’s redoubt. This opened up a fresh

question as to counter-mines, with the result that the dispute raged

with renewed vigour.

Whilst this friendly strife was proceeding between the elders, Sir

Gervas Jerome and Mistress Ruth had fallen into conversation at the

other side of the table. I have seldom seen, my dear children, so

beautiful a face as that of this Puritan damsel; and it was beautiful

with that sort of modest and maidenly comeliness where the features

derive their sweetness from the sweet soul which shines through them.

The perfectly-moulded body appeared to be but the outer expression of

the perfect spirit within. Her dark-brown hair swept back from a broad

and white forehead, which surmounted a pair of well-marked eyebrows and

large blue thoughtful eyes. The whole cast of her features was gentle

and dove-like, yet there was a firmness in the mouth and delicate

prominence of the chin which might indicate that in times of trouble and

danger the little maid would prove to be no unworthy descendant of the

Roundhead soldier and Puritan magistrate. I doubt not that where more

loud-tongued and assertive dames might be cowed, the Mayor’s soft-voiced

daughter would begin to cast off her gentler disposition, and to show

the stronger nature which underlay it. It amused me much to listen to

the efforts which Sir Gervas made to converse with her, for the damsel

and he lived so entirely in two different worlds, that it took all his

gallantry and ready wit to keep on ground which would be intelligible to

her.

‘No doubt you spend much of your time in reading, Mistress Ruth,’ he

remarked. ‘It puzzles me to think what else you can do so far from

town?’

‘Town!’ said she in surprise. ‘What is Taunton but a town?’

‘Heaven forbid that I should deny it,’ replied Sir Gervas, ‘more

especially in the presence of so many worthy burghers, who have the name

of being somewhat jealous of the honour of their native city. Yet the

fact remains, fair mistress, that the town of London so far transcends

all other towns that it is called, even as I called it just now, _the_

town.’

‘Is it so very large, then?’ she cried, with pretty wonder. ‘But new

louses are building in Taunton, outside the old walls, and beyond

Shuttern, and some even at the other side of the river. Perhaps in time

it may be as large.’

‘If all the folks in Taunton were to be added to London,’ said Sir

Gervas, ‘no one there would observe that there had been any increase.’

‘Nay, there you are laughing at me. That is against all reason,’ cried

the country maiden.

‘Your grandfather will bear out my words,’ said Sir Gervas. ‘But to

return to your reading, I’ll warrant that there is not a page of

Scudery and her “Grand Cyrus” which you have not read. You are familiar,

doubtless, with every sentiment in Cowley, or Waller, or Dryden?’

‘Who are these?’ she asked. ‘At what church do they preach?’

‘Faith!’ cried the baronet, with a laugh, ‘honest John preaches at the

church of Will Unwin, commonly known as Will’s, where many a time it

is two in the morning before he comes to the end of his sermon. But why

this question? Do you think that no one may put pen to paper unless they

have also a right to wear a gown and climb up to a pulpit? I had thought

that all of your sex had read Dryden. Pray, what are your own favourite

books?’

‘There is Alleine’s “Alarm to the Unconverted,”’ said she. ‘It is a

stirring work, and one which hath wrought much good. Hast thou not found

it to fructify within thee?’

‘I have not read the book you name,’ Sir Gervas confessed.

‘Not read it?’ she cried, with raised eyebrows. ‘Truly I had thought

that every one had read the “Alarm.” What dost thou think, then, of

“Faithful Contendings”?’

‘I have not read it.’

‘Or of Baxter’s Sermons?’ she asked.

‘I have not read them.’

‘Of Bull’s “Spirit Cordial,” then?’

‘I have not read it.’

Mistress Ruth Timewell stared at him in undisguised wonder. ‘You may

think me ill-bred to say it, sir,’ she remarked, ‘but I cannot but

marvel where you have been, or what you have done all your life. Why,

the very children in the street have read these books.’

‘In truth, such works come little in our way in London,’ Sir Gervas

answered. ‘A play of George Etherege’s, or a jingle of Sir John

Suckling’s is lighter, though mayhap less wholesome food for the mind.

A man in London may keep pace with the world of letters without

much reading, for what with the gossip of the coffee-houses and the

news-letters that fall in his way, and the babble of poets or wits

at the assemblies, with mayhap an evening or two in the week at the

playhouse, with Vanbrugh or Farquhar, one can never part company for

long with the muses. Then, after the play, if a man is in no humour for

a turn of luck at the green table at the Groom Porter’s, he may stroll

down to the Coca Tree if he be a Tory, or to St. James’s if he be a

Whig, and it is ten to one if the talk turn not upon the turning of

alcaics, or the contest between blank verse or rhyme. Then one may,

after an arriere supper, drop into Will’s or Slaughter’s and find Old

John, with Tickell and Congreve and the rest of them, hard at work

on the dramatic unities, or poetical justice, or some such matter. I

confess that my own tastes lay little in that line, for about that hour

I was likely to be worse employed with wine-flask, dice-box, or--’

‘Hem! hem!’ cried I warningly, for several of the Puritans were

listening with faces which expressed anything but approval.

‘What you say of London is of much interest to me,’ said the Puritan

maiden, ‘though these names and places have little meaning to my

ignorant ears. You did speak, however, of the playhouse. Surely no

worthy man goes near those sinks of iniquity, the baited traps of the

Evil One? Has not the good and sanctified Master Bull declared from

the pulpit that they are the gathering-place of the froward, the chosen

haunts of the perverse Assyrians, as dangerous to the soul as any

of those Papal steeple-houses wherein the creature is sacrilegiously

confounded with the Creator?’

‘Well and truly spoken, Mistress Timewell,’ cried the lean young

Puritan upon the right, who had been an attentive listener to the whole

conversation. ‘There is more evil in such houses than even in the cities

of the plain. I doubt not that the wrath of the Lord will descend

upon them, and destroy them, and wreck them utterly, together with the

dissolute men and abandoned women who frequent them.’

‘Your strong opinions, friend,’ said Sir Gervas quietly, ‘are borne out

doubtless by your full knowledge of the subject. How often, prythee,

have you been in these playhouses which you are so ready to decry?’

‘I thank the Lord that I have never been so far tempted from the

straight path as to set foot within one,’ the Puritan answered, ‘nor

have I ever been in that great sewer which is called London. I trust,

however, that I with others of the faithful may find our way thither

with our tucks at our sides ere this business is finished, when we shall

not be content, I’ll warrant, with shutting these homes of vice, as

Cromwell did, but we shall not leave one stone upon another, and shall

sow the spot with salt, that it may be a hissing and a byword amongst

the people.’

‘You are right, John Derrick,’ said the Mayor, who had overheard the

latter part of his remarks. ‘Yet methinks that a lower tone and a more

backward manner would become you better when you are speaking with your

master’s guests. Touching these same playhouses, Colonel, when we have

carried the upper hand this time, we shall not allow the old tares to

check the new wheat. We know what fruit these places have borne in the

days of Charles, the Gwynnes, the Palmers, and the whole base crew of

foul lecherous parasites. Have you ever been in London, Captain Clarke?’

‘Nay, sir; I am country born and bred.’

‘The better man you,’ said our host. ‘I have been there twice. The first

time was in the days of the Rump, when Lambert brought in his division

to overawe the Commons. I was then quartered at the sign of the Four

Crosses in Southwark, then kept by a worthy man, one John Dolman, with

whom I had much edifying speech concerning predestination. All was

quiet and sober then, I promise you, and you might have walked from

Westminster to the Tower in the dead of the night without hearing aught

save the murmur of prayer and the chanting of hymns. Not a ruffler or

a wench was in the streets after dark, nor any one save staid citizens

upon their business, or the halberdiers of the watch. The second visit

which I made was over this business of the levelling of the ramparts,

when I and neighbour Foster, the glover, were sent at the head of a

deputation from this town to the Privy Council of Charles. Who could

have credited that a few years would have made such a change? Every evil

thing that had been stamped underground had spawned and festered until

its vermin brood flooded the streets, and the godly wore themselves

driven to shun the light of day. Apollyon had indeed triumphed for a

while. A quiet man could not walk the highways without being elbowed

into the kennel by swaggering swashbucklers, or accosted by painted

hussies. Padders and michers, laced cloaks, jingling spurs, slashed

boots, tall plumes, bullies and pimps, oaths and blasphemies--I promise

you hell was waxing fat. Even in the solitude of one’s coach one was not

free from the robber.’

‘How that, sir?’ asked Reuben.

‘Why marry, in this wise. As I was the sufferer I have the best right

to tell the tale. Ye must know that after our reception--which was

cold enough, for we were about as welcome to the Privy Council as the

hearth-tax man is to the village housewife--we were asked, more as

I guess from derision than from courtesy, to the evening levee at

Buckingham Palace. We would both fain have been excused from going but

we feared that our refusal might give undue offence, and so hinder the

success of our mission. My homespun garments ware somewhat rough for

such an occasion, yet I determined to appear in them, with the addition

of a new black baize waistcoat faced with silk, and a good periwig, for

which I gave three pounds ten shillings in the Haymarket.’

The young Puritan opposite turned up his eyes and murmured something

about ‘sacrificing to Dagon,’ which fortunately for him was inaudible to

the high-spirited old man.

‘It was but a worldly vanity,’ quoth the Mayor; ‘for, with all

deference, Sir Gervas Jerome, a man’s own hair arranged with some taste,

and with perhaps a sprinkling of powder, is to my mind the fittest

ornament to his head. It is the contents and not the case which

availeth. Having donned this frippery, good Master Foster and I hired

a calash and drove to the Palace. We were deep in grave and, I trust,

profitable converse speeding through the endless streets, when of a

sudden I felt a sharp tug at my head, and my hat fluttered down on to my

knees. I raised my hands, and lo! they came upon my bare pate. The wig

had vanished. We were rolling down Fleet Street at the moment, and there

was no one in the calash save neighbour Foster, who sat as astounded as

I. We looked high and low, on the seats and beneath them, but not a sign

of the periwig was there. It was gone utterly and without a trace.’

‘Whither then?’ we asked with one voice.

‘That was the question which we set ourselves to solve. For a moment I

do assure ye that we bethought us that it might be a judgment upon us

for our attention to such carnal follies. Then it crossed my mind

that it might be the doing of some malicious sprite, as the Drummer of

Tedworth, or those who occasioned the disturbances no very long time

since at the old Gast House at Little Burton here in Somersetshire.

(Note F. Appendix.) With this thought we hallooed to the coachman, and

told him what had occurred to us. The fellow came down from his

perch, and having heard our story, he burst straightway into much foul

language, and walking round to the back of his calash, showed us that

a slit had been made in the leather wherewith it was fashioned. Through

this the thief had thrust his hand and had drawn my wig through the

hole, resting the while on the crossbar of the coach. It was no uncommon

thing, he said, and the wig-snatchers were a numerous body who waited

beside the peruke-maker’s shops, and when they saw a customer come forth

with a purchase which was worth their pains they would follow him, and,

should he chance to drive, deprive him of it in this fashion. Be that as

it may, I never saw my wig again, and had to purchase another before I

could venture into the royal presence.’

‘A strange adventure truly,’ exclaimed Saxon. ‘How fared it with you for

the remainder of the evening?’

‘But scurvily, for Charles’s face, which was black enough at all

times, was blackest of all to us; nor was his brother the Papist more

complaisant. They had but brought us there that they might dazzle us

with their glitter and gee-gaws, in order that we might bear a fine

report of them back to the West with us. There were supple-backed

courtiers, and strutting nobles, and hussies with their shoulders bare,

who should for all their high birth have been sent to Bridewell as

readily as any poor girl who ever walked at the cart’s tail. Then there

were the gentlemen of the chamber, with cinnamon and plum-coloured

coats, and a brave show of gold lace and silk and ostrich feather.

Neighbour Foster and I felt as two crows might do who have wandered

among the peacocks. Yet we bare in mind in whose image we were

fashioned, and we carried ourselves, I trust, as independent English

burghers. His Grace of Buckingham had his flout at us, and Rochester

sneered, and the women simpered; but we stood four square, my friend

and I, discussing, as I well remember, the most precious doctrines of

election and reprobation, without giving much heed either to those who

mocked us, or to the gamesters upon our left, or to the dancers upon

our right. So we stood throughout the evening, until, finding that they

could get little sport from us, my Lord Clarendon, the Chancellor, gave

us the word to retire, which we did at our leisure after saluting the

King and the company.’

‘Nay, that I should never have done!’ cried the young Puritan, who had

listened intently to his elder’s narrative. ‘Would it not have been

more fitting to have raised up your hands and called down vengeance upon

them, as the holy man of old did upon the wicked cities?’

‘More fitting, quotha!’ said the Mayor impatiently. ‘It is most fitting

that youth should be silent until his opinion is asked on such matters.

God’s wrath comes with leaden feet, but it strikes with iron hands. In

His own good time He has judged when the cup of these men’s iniquities

is overflowing. It is not for us to instruct Him. Curses have, as the

wise man said, a habit of coming home to roost. Bear that in mind,

Master John Derrick, and be not too liberal with them.’

The young apprentice, for such he was, bowed his head sullenly to the

rebuke, whilst the Mayor, after a short pause, resumed his story.

‘Being a fine night,’ said he, ‘we chose to walk back to our lodgings;

but never shall I forget the wicked scenes wherewith we were encountered

on the way. Good Master Bunyan, of Elstow, might have added some

pages to his account of Vanity Fair had he been with us. The women,

be-patched, be-ruddled, and brazen; the men swaggering, roistering,

cursing--the brawling, the drabbing, and the drunkenness! It was a fit

kingdom to be ruled over by such a court. At last we had made our way to

more quiet streets, and were hoping that our adventures were at an end,

when of a sudden there came a rush of half-drunken cavaliers from a side

street, who set upon the passers-by with their swords, as though we had

fallen into an ambuscade of savages in some Paynim country. They were,

as I surmise, of the same breed as those of whom the excellent John

Milton wrote: “The sons of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.” Alas!

my memory is not what it was, for at one time I could say by rote whole

books of that noble and godly poem.’

‘And, pray, how fared ye with these rufflers, sir?’ I asked.

‘They beset us, and some few other honest citizens who were wending

their ways homewards, and waving their naked swords they called upon us

to lay down our arms and pay homage. “To whom?” I asked. They pointed

to one of their number who was more gaudily dressed and somewhat

drunker than the rest. “This is our most sovereign liege,” they cried.

“Sovereign over whom?” I asked. “Over the Tityre Tus,” they answered.

“Oh, most barbarous and cuckoldy citizen, do you not recognise that you

have fallen into the hands of that most noble order?” “This is not your

real monarch,” said I, “for he is down beneath us chained in the pit,

where some day he will gather his dutiful subjects around him.” “Lo, he

hath spoken treason!” they cried, on which, without much more ado, they

set upon us with sword and dagger. Neighbour Foster and I placed our

backs against a wall, and with our cloaks round our left arms we made

play with our tucks, and managed to put in one or two of the old Wigan

Lane raspers. In particular, friend Foster pinked the King in such wise

that his Majesty ran howling down the street like a gored bull-pup. We

were beset by numbers, however, and might have ended our mission then

and there had not the watch appeared upon the scene, struck up our

weapons with their halberds, and so arrested the whole party. Whilst the

fray lasted the burghers from the adjoining houses were pouring water

upon us, as though we were cats on the tiles, which, though it did

not cool our ardour in the fight, left us in a scurvy and unsavoury

condition. In this guise we were dragged to the round-house, where we

spent the night amidst bullies, thieves, and orange wenches, to whom I

am proud to say that both neighbour Foster and myself spoke some words

of joy and comfort. In the morning we were released, and forthwith shook

the dust of London from our feet; nor do I ever wish to return thither,

unless it be at the head of our Somersetshire regiments, to see King

Monmouth don the crown which he had wrested in fair fight from the

Popish perverter.’

As Master Stephen Timewell ended his tale a general shuffling and rising

announced the conclusion of the meal. The company filed slowly out in

order of seniority, all wearing the same gloomy and earnest expression,

with grave gait and downcast eyes. These Puritan ways were, it is true,

familiar to me from childhood, yet I had never before seen a large

household conforming to them, or marked their effect upon so many young

men.

‘You shall bide behind for a while,’ said the Mayor, as we were about

to follow the others. ‘William, do you bring a flask of the old green

sealed sack. These creature comforts I do not produce before my lads,

for beef and honest malt is the fittest food for such. On occasion,

however, I am of Paul’s opinion, that a flagon of wine among friends is

no bad thing for mind or for body. You can away now, sweetheart, if you

have aught to engage you.’

‘Do you go out again?’ asked Mistress Ruth.

‘Presently, to the town-hall. The survey of arms is not yet complete.’

‘I shall have your robes ready, and also the rooms of our guests,’ she

answered, and so, with a bright smile to us, tripped away upon her duty.

‘I would that I could order our town as that maiden orders this house,’

said the Mayor. ‘There is not a want that is not supplied before it is

felt. She reads my thoughts and acts upon them ere my lips have time to

form them. If I have still strength to spend in the public service, it

is because my private life is full of restful peace. Do not fear the

sack, sirs. It cometh from Brooke and Hellier’s of Abchurch Lane, and

may be relied upon.’

‘Which showeth that one good thing cometh out of London,’ remarked Sir

Gervas.

‘Aye, truly,’ said the old man, smiling. ‘But what think ye of my young

men, sir? They must needs be of a very different class to any with

whom you are acquainted, if, as I understand, you have frequented court

circles.’

‘Why, marry, they are good enough young men, no doubt,’ Sir Gervas

answered lightly. ‘Methinks, however, that there is a want of sap about

them. It is not blood, but sour buttermilk that flows in their veins.’

‘Nay, nay,’ the Mayor responded warmly. ‘There you do them an injustice.

Their passions and feelings are under control, as the skilful rider

keeps his horse in hand; but they are as surely there as is the speed

and endurance of the animal. Did you observe the godly youth who sat

upon your right, whom I had occasion to reprove more than once for

over-zeal? He is a fit example of how a man may take the upper hand of

his feelings, and keep them in control.’

‘And how has he done so?’ I asked.

‘Why, between friends,’ quoth the Mayor, ‘it was but last Lady-day that

he asked the hand of my granddaughter Ruth in marriage. His time is

nearly served, and his father, Sam Derrick, is an honourable craftsman,

so that the match would have been no unfitting one. The maiden turned

against him, however--young girls will have their fancies--and the

matter came to an end. Yet here he dwells under the same roof-tree, at

her elbow from morn to night, with never a sign of that passion which

can scarce have died out so soon. Twice my wool warehouse hath been

nigh burned to the ground since then, and twice he hath headed those who

fought the flames. There are not many whose suit hath been rejected who

would bear themselves in so resigned and patient a fashion.’

‘I am prepared to find that your judgment is the correct one,’ said Sir

Gervas Jerome. ‘I have learned to distrust too hasty dislikes, and bear

in mind that couplet of John Dryden--

“Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow.

He who would search for pearls must dive below.”’

‘Or worthy Dr. Samuel Butler,’ said Saxon, ‘who, in his immortal poem of

“Hudibras,” says--

“The fool can only see the skin:

The wise man tries to peep within.”’

‘I wonder, Colonel Saxon,’ said our host severely, ‘that you should

speak favourably of that licentious poem, which is composed, as I have

heard, for the sole purpose of casting ridicule upon the godly. I should

as soon have expected to hear you praise the wicked and foolish work of

Hobbes, with his mischievous thesis, “A Deo rex, a rege lex.”’

‘It is true that I contemn and despise the use which Butler hath made of

his satire,’ said Saxon adroitly; ‘yet I may admire the satire itself,

just as one may admire a damascened blade without approving of the

quarrel in which it is drawn.’

‘These distinctions are, I fear, too subtle for my old brain,’ said the

stout old Puritan. ‘This England of ours is divided into two camps, that

of God and that of Antichrist. He who is not with us is against us, nor

shall any who serve under the devil’s banner have anything from me save

my scorn and the sharp edge of my sword.’

‘Well, well,’ said Saxon, filling up his glass, ‘I am no Laodicean or

time-server. The cause shall not find me wanting with tongue or with

sword.’

‘Of that I am well convinced, my worthy friend,’ the Mayor answered,

‘and if I have spoken over sharply you will hold me excused. But I

regret to have evil tidings to announce to you. I have not told the

commonalty lest it cast them down, but I know that adversity will be

but the whetstone to give your ardour a finer edge. Argyle’s rising has

failed, and he and his companions are prisoners in the hands of the man

who never knew what pity was.’

We all started in our chairs at this, and looked at one another aghast,

save only Sir Gervas Jerome, whose natural serenity was, I am well

convinced, proof against any disturbance. For you may remember, my

children, that I stated when I first took it in hand to narrate to you

these passages of my life, that the hopes of Monmouth’s party rested

very much upon the raid which Argyle and the Scottish exiles had

made upon Ayrshire, where it was hoped that they would create such a

disturbance as would divert a good share of King James’s forces, and so

make our march to London less difficult. This was the more confidently

expected since Argyle’s own estates lay upon that side of Scotland,

where he could raise five thousand swordsmen among his own clansmen.

The western counties abounded, too, in fierce zealots who were ready to

assert the cause of the Covenant, and who had proved themselves in many

a skirmish to be valiant warriors. With the help of the Highlanders and

of the Covenanters it seemed certain that Argyle would be able to hold

his own, the more so since he took with him to Scotland the English

Puritan Rumbold, and many others skilled in warfare. This sudden news

of his total defeat and downfall was therefore a heavy blow, since it

turned the whole forces of the Government upon ourselves.

‘Have you the news from a trusty source?’ asked Decimus Saxon, after a

long silence.

‘It is beyond all doubt or question,’ Master Stephen Timewell answered.

‘Yet I can well understand your surprise, for the Duke had trusty

councillors with him. There was Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth--’

‘All talk and no fight,’ said Saxon.

‘And Richard Rumbold.’

‘All fight and no talk,’ quoth our companion. ‘He should, methinks, have

rendered a better account of himself.’

‘Then there was Major Elphinstone.’

‘A bragging fool!’ cried Saxon.’

‘And Sir John Cochrane.’

‘A captious, long-tongued, short-witted sluggard,’ said the soldier of

fortune. ‘The expedition was doomed from the first with such men at

its head. Yet I had thought that could they have done nought else, they

might at least have flung themselves into the mountain country, where

these bare-legged caterans could have held their own amid their native

clouds and mists. All taken, you say! It is a lesson and a warning

to us. I tell you that unless Monmouth infuses more energy into his

councils, and thrusts straight for the heart instead of fencing and

foining at the extremities, we shall find ourselves as Argyle and

Rumbold. What mean these two days wasted at Axminster at a time when

every hour is of import? Is he, every time that he brushes a party

of militia aside, to stop forty-eight hours and chant “Te Deums” when

Churchill and Feversham are, as I know, pushing for the West with every

available man, and the Dutch grenadiers are swarming over like rats into

a granary?’

‘You are very right, Colonel Saxon,’ the Mayor answered. ‘And I trust

that when the King comes here we may stir him up to more prompt action.

He has much need of more soldierly advisers, for since Fletcher hath

gone there is hardly a man about him who hath been trained to arms.’

‘Well,’ said Saxon moodily, ‘now that Argyle hath gone under we are face

to face with James, with nothing but our own good swords to trust to.’

‘To them and to the justice of our cause. How like ye the news, young

sirs? Has the wine lost its smack on account of it? Are ye disposed to

flinch from the standard of the Lord?’

‘For my own part I shall see the matter through,’ said I.

‘And I shall bide where Micah Clarke bides,’ quoth Reuben Lockarby.

‘And to me,’ said Sir Gervas, ‘it is a matter of indifference, so long

as I am in good company and there is something stirring.’

‘In that case,’ said the Mayor, ‘we had best each turn to his own work,

and have all ready for the King’s arrival. Until then I trust that ye

will honour my humble roof.’

‘I fear that I cannot accept your kindness,’ Saxon answered. ‘When I am

in harness I come and go early and late. I shall therefore take up my

quarters in the inn, which is not very well furnished with victual,

and yet can supply me with the simple fare, which with a black Jack of

October and a pipe of Trinidado is all I require.’

As Saxon was firm in this resolution the Mayor forbore to press it upon

him, but my two friends gladly joined with me in accepting the worthy

wool-worker’s offer, and took up our quarters for the time under his

hospitable roof.