Roger Willoughby Part 16

"He has joined the standard of the Duke of Monmouth, who landed this afternoon, and he bade me ride on and tell you, being a.s.sured that you would approve of his proceeding."

"Would that I could join him myself!" exclaimed Mr Battis...o...b...

"But I can, and I can," cried out two of his other sons, rising from their chairs as they spoke. "We will join him this very night; and you will return with us, Roger, of course."

"I am bound homewards," answered Roger. "I could not take such a step without consulting my uncle and father."

"For so glorious a cause we ought not to hesitate for a moment,"

exclaimed one of the young Battis...o...b..s; "but if you will not go with us we must set out without you."

"Better wait till to-morrow morning," said Mr Battis...o...b... "Employ this evening in preparing your arms, and collecting such articles as you may require."

After Roger's st.u.r.dy refusal to join the Duke, the young Battis...o...b..s treated him with unusual coldness, barely indeed with civility; he, therefore, wishing them good-evening, mounted his horse and made his way towards the manor-house.

"Have you heard anything more about the ships Alice saw last night?"

asked his father.

"Yes," answered Roger, and he described who had landed from them.

"Stephen has joined the Duke, and wanted me much to do the same, but I declined till I had consulted you."

"You acted wisely, Roger," said his uncle. "It may be that he will gain the day, it may be that he will lose it; but certain it is that he who brings civil war into a land brings a heavy curse."

"And has Stephen actually joined the Duke of Monmouth?" exclaimed Alice, turning pale. "I urged him not to join so desperate a cause as that which the Duke's must be when he comes to oppose const.i.tuted authority."

"But he does not consider it desperate," said Roger, "but a right n.o.ble cause; and judging by the enthusiasm exhibited by the people, if the Duke has brought arms to put into their hands, and officers to drill them, he may speedily have a large army under his command."

"That remains to be seen," observed the Colonel. "I had hoped not to witness another civil war in our country."

Mr Willoughby had all the time kept silence. Although, perhaps, thankful that his son had not joined Monmouth's standard, he rejoiced that the Duke had safely landed and that the people showed enthusiasm in his cause. His belief was that the whole of the west of England would quickly be up in arms, that the army of James would melt away, and that a bloodless victory would be obtained over the tyrant. He made a remark to that effect to the Colonel.

"I wish no ill to the Duke of Monmouth," he answered. "If he succeeds he will be called the deliverer of our country, if he fails he will be branded as a traitor. It all depends on the prudence with which he acts, no less than on the purity of his views. If his cause is so intrinsically just, he is likely to obtain general support. If not, should he fail, he will be guilty of the ruin and destruction of those who engage with him. Undoubtedly the Duke, like you and others, believes that the whole of the west country, including the n.o.blemen and gentlemen, will rise in his favour, that a rising will take place in London, that the Duke of Argyll will be successful in Scotland, and that the rebellion will be organised in Ireland; but all this remains to be proved, and it appears to me that the Duke, before he ventured on English ground, should have thoroughly a.s.sured himself that these events would occur."

Such were the opinions of a large number of the upper cla.s.ses who were not unfavourable to the Duke, but were unwilling to hazard their lives and fortunes by taking an active part in an enterprise which had been commenced, as they considered, without due and sufficient preparation.

The older men had witnessed and the younger ones had heard too much of the horrors of civil war to desire again to see it commence, unless they could be satisfied that the cause they advocated would be speedily and entirely triumphant. The large majority of Protestants would gladly have seen the Popish king driven from the throne, but even that event might be purchased at too high a price, and thus they thought it prudent to remain neutral in the coming struggle.

Before retiring to bed the Colonel summoned Roger to speak to him in private. Having commended him for the prudence with which he had acted, he added, "Now, my lad, I wish you to give me your word of honour that you will not be tempted by any persuasions to join the Duke. I know the enthusiastic spirit which animates your friend Stephen, who fully believes that he is engaged in a righteous cause, regardless of all the consequences of failure. He acts with the approval of his father, therefore I do not blame him; but I think it probable that he will endeavour to win you and others over, and I therefore wish to prepare you to resist all his arguments and solicitations."

Roger was somewhat surprised at this address, for he fancied that Stephen, whatever he might say, was not at all likely to win him over.

He, however, readily gave his word to his uncle.

"I can now with much more satisfaction enjoy your society during your brief stay with us," said the Colonel, "and feel confident that you will make the best of your way back to London to join your ship when your leave is up."

The next day Mr Battis...o...b.. came over from Langton Hall to call on the Colonel and Mr Willoughby. The object of his visit was very evident.

He at once entered into the subject of the Duke of Monmouth's enterprise, and used every argument he could think of to induce his friends to support it.

He had given his sons, he said, to the cause, though his age and infirmities must prevent him from joining it personally, but he purposed setting to work to enlist men who would soon raise a body of cavalry, of which he hoped Colonel Tregellen would take command.

"I will do nothing of the sort, my friend," answered the Colonel, laughing. "My fighting days are over, and even if I thought better of the Duke's cause than I do, I would not risk the safety of those dependent on me by engaging in it. As a friend, I would advise you to return home and remain quietly there; you have given your sons to the cause, and I pray that they may be preserved from the dangers to which they must inevitably be exposed."

Madam Pauline and Alice were present; the former was greatly relieved when she heard the Colonel say this. Poor Alice looked pale and anxious. She was more ready than ever to forgive Stephen for having acted contrary to her advice, when she heard that he had done so in obedience to his father's wishes; still she dreaded the dangers to which he would be exposed,--dangers which the Colonel's remarks had conjured up in her imagination. Roger's stay was to be a very short one, he had spent so much time on his journey down; and as he would probably be longer returning, it was settled that he was to start on the following Monday. The family on Sat.u.r.day night had retired to rest, but Roger, a very unusual thing for him, could not sleep. He had thrown open the window, which looked northward; before it, at some distance, ran the road between Lyme and Bridport. Presently he heard the tramp of feet and the murmur of voices. As he watched a part of the road which could be seen between the trees, he observed it filled with armed men marching eastward. There appeared to him to be a large number on foot pressing forward, then there came a body of hors.e.m.e.n. At length they all pa.s.sed by. He was doubtful whether he should tell his uncle, but what would be the use, he thought, if they are Monmouth's men?--he would not join them. Or is it likely that the Duke could so soon have got an army together? If they are the king's, he might be called upon to give his a.s.sistance. He was very much inclined to let himself out of the house to go and ascertain what they were about. He resisted the temptation, however. Should he be discovered, his uncle, he felt, might suppose that he was breaking his word. Drowsiness stealing over him, he left his window open and turned into bed. He rose rather later than usual, and on going down to breakfast mentioned what he had heard during the night; but no one had been disturbed, and his father declared that he must have been dreaming. Roger a.s.serted that he had both seen and heard a large body of men pa.s.sing. The Colonel was somewhat unwell, and Mr Willoughby never left the house at an early hour, so Roger volunteered to go out and ascertain if anything unusual had taken place. He had just got to the edge of the plantations which bordered the high-road, when he heard the tramp of horses, and looking along it, saw a large body of mounted men trotting along at a fast rate coming from the direction of Bridport. Not wishing to encounter them, he crouched down among the underwood. At their head rode one of the officers who had landed with the Duke, who he heard was Lord Grey. His followers seemed to be in a desperate hurry, some pushing on before the others, as the oxen in a large drove are apt to do when the dogs are barking at their heels. They looked neither to the right hand nor to the left. The road was somewhat narrow, only three or four could ride abreast; thus they were some time in pa.s.sing. Roger fancied they had all gone by, when, looking up, he observed a smaller party riding in better order. In the last among them, and apparently acting as an officer, he recognised Stephen Battis...o...b.., who kept continually turning round as if he expected some one to be following. Roger was much inclined to shout out and ask what had occurred, but he restrained himself, for he thought it possible that some of the men might look upon him as an enemy or a spy, and make him a prisoner. The appearance of Stephen had left no doubt that the party belonged to the Duke, and that they had been engaged in some expedition which had apparently not been successful. He now went on to the village, expecting there to obtain some certain information.

Except the landlord of the little inn, who was too burly and short-winded to move, not a man did he find in the place.

"They are all gone, Master Roger," said Joe Tippler; "marched away to Lyme to join the Duke of Monmouth. The Duke, they say, will soon have a mighty army, and go and take London town."

Several women to whom he spoke could give him no further information; no one appeared to have heard the force pa.s.sing during the night. Being unable to gain any further information, he was about to return home, when, on looking along the road, he saw towards the east another body of men on foot. It struck him that they might be the advanced guard of the king's forces, and that it would be prudent to keep out of their way.

He hurried back, therefore, to the plantation in which he had before concealed himself. As they came up they appeared to be marching in tolerable order, and he soon saw by their flags that they were the Duke of Monmouth's men. They had among them several horses and a number of persons, who were evidently prisoners by the way they were guarded.

Here and there some of the men appeared to have been wounded. Then there must have been fighting, and Monmouth's party after all have been victorious, thought Roger. He now returned home to make his report. He had done nothing heroic, but he had acted with prudence in keeping out of the way. The Colonel, with Madam Pauline and Alice, was preparing to go to church when he arrived, and by his uncle's desire he accompanied them. When they reached the church-door, however, except Master Holden and the clerk, with half a dozen poor women, no one was there.

Notwithstanding, Master Holden performed the service, but it was evident that he was puzzled what to preach about, as it would have been useless to such a congregation to warn them against rebellion, as had probably been his intention. He therefore dismissed them without his usual address, observing that at any moment bodies of armed men might be visiting their peaceful village, and that they would be safer in their own houses than abroad. From Roger's account the Colonel had no doubt that Bridport had been attacked, that the cavalry having been roughly handled had retreated, neither horses nor men being accustomed to stand fire, while the infantry perhaps had held their own, having driven back their enemies, and had retired in good order. Roger wanted to go out again after dinner to obtain some more news, but the Colonel forbade him to leave the grounds, as it was likely that the king's forces would advance upon Lyme, if they were in sufficient number, and he might uselessly get involved in a skirmish. The remainder of the day, however, pa.s.sed quietly. The next morning Roger was to start on his journey. He rose at an early hour; the whole family were up to see him off. It had been arranged that John Platt was to accompany him for the first twenty miles on the road towards London. He had a stout cob, which his uncle had given him to be sold in London for his benefit.

"Your father's friend Mr Hands...o...b.. will certainly find a purchaser,"

observed the Colonel. "Now, farewell, my lad, it may be months, it may be years, before you come back; you know not to what part of the world you may be sent. You have acted wisely; continue to do so, and should your life be preserved you will rise in your profession."

Roger's other farewells were made, and he mounted his horse. He carried a brace of pistols in his holsters, a sword by his side, and a valise strapped on behind the saddle. John Platt rode with an arquebuss hanging at his back, a good pistol in one holster, and a broadsword which had done duty in the Civil War. The Colonel ordered them to push forward as fast as possible towards London, that they might get clear of the excitement caused by the Duke's landing, and have less chance of being interrupted. John Platt promised to carry out his master's instructions.

"They shall pay dear, whether king's men or rebels, if they attempt to stop us," he said, as he clutched his big sword, which in his younger days he had used with powerful effect as a trooper under the Colonel, though at present it seemed doubtful whether his arm had still strength enough to wield it. The Colonel gave them his parting charges as they rode out of the court-yard and pushed forward, as they had been directed, towards Salisbury by by-paths with which John Platt was well acquainted. Here and there they met peasants hurrying towards Lyme, who eagerly inquired news of the Duke. Some asked if a battle had already been fought; others said that they understood the Duke had landed with an army of ten thousand men, which by this time had increased to twenty thousand.

"He landed with not ten thousand or not ten hundred either," answered John dryly. "He may have a thousand or two about him by this time. If you take my advice you will go back home and not risk your necks by joining him."

The advice, however, was seldom if ever followed, the men looking upon honest John as a malignant. As they advanced they met bodies of militia marching westward under Tory country gentlemen, who considered it their duty to side with the king though they had no personal affection for him. Roger on each occasion had to give an account of himself, and he found some difficulty in persuading some of these zealous Royalists that his intentions were honest. He was allowed, however, to go on, till at length the time came for his separating from John Platt. They warmly shook hands, as Roger did not consider it derogatory.

"Circ.u.mspect Master Roger," said the old man, "do not let strangers get into your confidence; give them the cold shoulder rather; ride straight on; when you arrive at an inn, see to your horse yourself that he gets properly fed; if a stranger enters into conversation, listen to what he may have to say, but give him as little information as you can in return."

Roger promised to follow the old soldier's advice, and found it greatly to his advantage. His horse held out well, and by judicious management he contrived to get to London in five days after leaving Eversden. On entering London he found the city perfectly quiet, not the slightest sign, as far as he could discover, of a proposed outbreak, the fact being that the king had arrested all suspicious persons of influence.

He inquired his way to the house of Mr Hands...o...b.., who lived not far from the Thames. The cloth-merchant was at home, and received him kindly. He was looking somewhat pale and anxious, and made many inquiries as to what was going forward in the south. Roger gave him all the information he possessed, but Mr Hands...o...b.. made but few remarks in return.

"Now, my lad," he said in a kind tone, "the sooner you get on board your ship the better for you. Captain Benbow is expecting you, and I promised to send you down as soon as you arrived, for I may not remain here long. Before you go you must take some refreshment, and I in the meantime will order a boat to be in waiting."

"Where snail I find the _Benbow_ frigate?" asked Roger.

"She is not the ship you are to join," answered Mr Hands...o...b... "Her Captain has parted with her, and is now in command of a fine king's ship, the _Ruby_, of fifty guns, lying at Deptford."

Mr Hands...o...b.. was absent while Roger was taking the food provided for him; he appeared, on his return, in a travelling dress.

"I have made arrangements for the sale of your horse as your father requests me; here is the amount which the animal will probably fetch, put it in your pocket and do not throw it away; and now come along."

"What, are you going with me, sir?" asked Roger.

"Yes, in the character of your father, going to see you on board your ship. Circ.u.mstances make it convenient to be away from London just at present, and the idea has struck me that I could not have a better opportunity. Your chest has been transferred to the _Ruby_, and you can carry your valise while I carry mine."

They hastened down to the boat and immediately stepped aboard, when the boatmen began to row l.u.s.tily down the stream, the tide fortunately favouring them. They safely shot under the arches of London Bridge, and were now among vessels of various sizes and rigs, some moored to the banks, others brought up in the stream. Though the day was long, it was dusk before they reached the _Ruby_ Shaking Roger by the hand, Mr Hands...o...b.. bade him answer the hail of the sentry, and then without loss of time stepped up the side with his valise.

"Are you not coming, sir?" asked Roger. "No, my lad," was the answer; "I am going on board a merchant vessel which sails by the next tide.

Fare thee well. I hope to meet you again some time when you return home; at present I know not exactly what is to be my destination."

Roger, as desired, answered the sentry's hail, and was allowed to step on board, when the boat glided away immediately, and was lost to sight.

Captain Benbow, who was on board, received him cordially, and expressed his satisfaction at seeing him return so punctually. Roger expected to be questioned as to what was taking place in the west, but the Captain showed very little interest in the matter. He merely observed, "The Duke of Monmouth has landed, I understand. He did a foolish thing, but will do a wiser if he gets out of the country as fast as he can. Now, Willoughby, there is plenty of work for us on board; we have to fresh-rig the ship and get the crew into good discipline. At present except the men I brought from the _Benbow_ frigate, for one and all volunteered to follow me, we have not many worth their salt."

Roger was well pleased at being treated in a confidential way by his Captain; it showed that he was looked upon not only as a sailor, but as fit to become an officer. Except one lieutenant, the master, and boatswain, the other officers, strange as it may seem, had not been regularly bred to the sea.