Boscobel: or, the royal oak

"If I had had to do with a man of mettle, master in his own house, as well as master of his ship, I should have been half-way across the English Channel by this time," he cried. "Fate thwarts me at every turn; but I will not be cast down. We shall hear what Captain Ellesdon says. Perhaps he may be able to find me another vessel."

"After what has occurred, I do not think it will be safe for your majesty to remain here," said Colonel Wyndham. "Limbry's wife will probably publish all she knows. Besides, I do not like the looks of the ostler. The knave eyed me suspiciously as I gave him my horse just now, and muttered something about my being out all night."

"Where would you have me go? What would you have me do?" cried Charles.

"Perhaps Captain Ellesdon may suggest some plan," said the colonel. "We shall hear when Peters returns; but my notion is that your majesty should ride on to Bridport. You may have better luck there than here."

"My horse has cast a shoe," said Lord Wilmot, rising to quit the room. "If we are going to start immediately, I must send him to a smith."

So saying, he went out, and proceeding to the stable, gave the ostler the necessary instructions. Like Colonel Wyndham, he was struck with the man's inquisitive manner, and declined to have any conversation with him.

"I can't make these folks out," thought Reuben. "There's the strangest goings on with them I ever knew. 'Tis my belief they're a pack of malignants trying to escape; but I'll soon find it out."

Thus ruminating, and considering what reward he should obtain for giving information against his mistress's guests, he took Lord Wilmot's horse to a blacksmith, named Seth Hammet, whose smithy was in the lower part of the village. Bidding the smith good morrow, he told him he had brought him a job.

Seth Hammet, who was a sharp-looking young man, thanked him, but being of an inquisitive turn, he added, "You've got some gentlefolks at the inn, I think?"

"Ay, ay," replied Reuben, not desiring to take him into his confidence. "This horse belongs to one of them."

"A fine horse," observed Hammet, looking at him admiringly. "But they all seem well mounted. Where do they come from?"

"I don't happen to know," replied Reuben, in a tone meant to signify that he did not feel inclined to tell. "Somewhere in Devonshire, I believe."

"Well, I can easily find out," observed Hammet, with a knowing look.

"I should like to know how?" rejoined Reuben, surprised.

"I'll show you presently," said the smith.

"If there's witchcraft in it, I won't have anything to do with it," said Reuben.

"Bless you! there's no witchcraft in it. 'Tis the simplest thing possible, as you'll see. Two of your guests have been out all night."

"How do you know that?" asked Reuben.

"Because I saw them return, not half an hour ago. The servant rode on to Lyme. I'm sure of it, for I heard his master tell him to go on to Captain Ellesdon's house."

"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed the ostler, surprised.

"Yes, you didn't know that, Reuben," said the smith. "Now let us proceed to business."

Thereupon, he took up the horse's feet, and examined the shoes, twice over, very deliberately.

After the second examination, he said, with a grin:

"Now, Reuben, I can tell you something that will surprise you. This horse has only three shoes on, as you know. Each shoe has been put on in a different county – Somerset, Stafford, Worcester."

"Did you say Worcester?" cried Reuben.

"Look here," replied Hammet, lifting up one of the horse's fore-feet. "That shoe came from Worcester. Now, don't you think I'm a conjurer?"

"I don't know what to think," replied Reuben.

But it seemed as if something had suddenly struck him, for he said rather hastily, "I can't stay any longer. I want to see our minister, Mr. Wesley; I'll come back for the horse presently."

So saying, he ran off to Mr. Wesley's dwelling, which was at no great distance, but he found that the minister was at prayers with his family, and knowing from experience that the reverend gentleman's discourses were rather lengthy, he would not wait, but went on to the inn.

During his absence Harry Peters, who had galloped there and back, had returned from Lyme, and was now with the king. Peters had seen Captain Ellesdon, who was quite confounded to hear of the failure of the plan, having persuaded himself that his majesty was then on the way to St. Malo.

"Never in my life have I seen a man so greatly troubled as the captain appeared," said Peters. "He humbly tenders his advice to your majesty not to make any longer stay in Charmouth. He would have ridden over to offer his counsel in person, and urge your immediate departure, had it been safe to do so. Rumours, he says, are sure to be bruited abroad, which will infallibly lead to strict search and pursuit by Captain Macy."

Captain Ellesdon's counsel so completely coincided with the opinion previously expressed by Colonel Wyndham and his other adherents, that the king determined to act upon it, and preparations were made for his immediate departure. Juliana had retired to rest in a chamber provided for her by Dame Swan, but she had been astir for some time, and was now in the hostess's room, quite ready to start.

Dame Swan was with her, when a maid-servant entered and informed her mistress that Reuben, the ostler, desired to speak with her, and she went out to him.

Displeased by his manner and looks, Dame Swan said to him very sharply, "Why are you not in the stable, Reuben, helping the young man to get ready the horses? If you have aught to say to me, it can be said at a more convenient opportunity, when the guests are gone."

"No, it cannot," replied the ostler. "No opportunity like the present. Hear what I have to say, and be warned. I will not saddle or bridle the horses – neither will I suffer your guests to depart. They are malignants. I have proof of it."

"Fie upon you, Reuben!" cried his mistress. "You have been drinking strong waters on an empty stomach, and your brain is confused."

"I have only drunk my customary pot of cider," he rejoined; "and my brain is clear enough to convince me that Charles Stuart is now in this house."

"What do I hear?" cried Dame Swan, putting the best face she could on the matter. "Out on thee, for a false knave! Dost want to injure my house by thy lies? There are none but gentlefolks here – men true to the Commonwealth. Go to the stable at once, and bring round the horses, or thou shalt quit my service."

"I do not design to remain in your service, misguided woman," he rejoined; "and I warn you not to let these malignants depart. I am now going to the Reverend Bartholomew Wesley, and will bring him back with me."

"A fig for thy minister!" she rejoined.

But as soon as he was gone she flew to the parlour in which Charles and the others were assembled, and informed them of the danger. On this, the whole party hastened to the stable.

Fortunately, Harry Peters had got the horses ready, so that in another minute they were all mounted – all, except Lord Wilmot, whose horse had not been brought back. Careless accompanied his lordship to the smithy.

As Dame Swan assisted Juliana to take her seat on the pillion behind, the king bade her adieu, and putting his arm round her neck, kissed her heartily.

He then rode off with his attendants towards Bridport, Lord Wilmot and Careless being left behind.

They had not been gone long, when a short, stout personage entered the inn, and greeted the hostess, though in rather a singular manner. He was arrayed in a black gown with Geneva bands, and a close-fitting black velvet skull-cap, that set off his ruddy visage. This was the Reverend Bartholomew Wesley, an ancestor we may remark of the renowned John Wesley. His countenance had a strange sarcastic expression, though he put on an air of mock respect.

"I scarce know how to approach you, Margaret, you are grown such a mighty grand dame," he said, with an affected reverence.

"Eh day! what's the meaning of this foolery?" she cried.

"You must be a maid of honour, at least," pursued the minister. "Nay, nay, you can't gainsay me. Charles Stuart slept at your house last night, and kissed you when he went away. 'Twas a great honour, no doubt – a very great honour – and you may well be proud."

"I should be proud, if I thought it was the king who had kissed me," she rejoined, sharply. "But the guests who slept in my house last night were plain country gentlemen, and it's no business of yours to meddle with them."

"Slept, quotha!" cried Wesley, lifting up his hands. "Why, not one of the party has been a-bed except the young damsel, and two of them have been out all night. You see I'm well informed, Margaret!"

"I know who has told you these shameful falsehoods – 'tis that false, mischief-making knave, Reuben Rufford."

"Reuben is an honest man, and of the right leaven. You will have to render an account of your guests, dame."

"I tell you my guests were all strangers to me. How can I give an account of them? They paid their lawful reckoning, and that's more than everybody does. All you desire is to get me into trouble – but I'm not afraid. Out of my house with you!"

"Woman! woman! listen to me!"

"No, I won't listen to you any longer. Out of my house, I say; or I'll find some one to kick you out."

Not knowing to what extremities the indignant dame might resort, the minister deemed it prudent to retreat, but he shook his clenched hand at her as he went out.

On coming forth he was joined by Reuben, and they went down to the smithy together. Seth Hammet told them that the gentleman had taken away his horse not many minutes ago, whereupon they both upbraided him for his want of zeal.

"Dolt! we should have captured the malignant, had you deprived him of the means of flight," said Wesley.

"I did resist," rejoined Hammet; "but he had a friend with him, and they forced me to deliver up the horse. However, I was right well paid for the job, for one of them flung me a pistole."

"Which way did they go? To Bridport?" demanded the minister.

"I think so," replied Hammet. "They rode up Stonebarrow Hill, and seemed to be making for Moorcomblake."

"They have fled, but they shall not escape," said Wesley. "We will hie unto Mr. Butler of Commer. He is the nearest justice of peace, and when he has heard our statement, he will despatch his warrants to raise the country for the apprehension of the Malignant Prince, and those traitors to the Commonwealth who were with him last night at Dame Swan's hostelry."

Thereupon, they all set off for Mr. Butler's residence, which was at no great distance from Charmouth, and on arriving there they were quickly admitted to the presence of the justice.

Now Mr. Butler was secretly a Royalist, though he prudently concealed his opinions, and on hearing Reuben Rufford's statement, he assumed a very severe countenance, and said,

"I know your mistress, Dame Swan, to be a very honest woman, and I also know you to be an arrant knave, having had several complaints made against you. I attach not the slightest credence to your statement. I do not believe that Charles Stuart is in this part of the country, and I therefore refuse to issue a warrant for his apprehension."

Mr. Wesley made an effort to move him, but the justice continued inflexible, and the applicants, who had made certain of success, left in high dudgeon.

But they were determined not to be baffled, and at the minister's instance, Reuben and Hammet set off at once for Lyme Regis, for the purpose of laying the matter before Captain Macy.

"I shall be greatly surprised," said Wesley, "if the captain, who is keen and clear-sighted, very different from this dull-witted, prejudiced justice, does not immediately discern the truth."

They were not long in getting to Lyme Regis, and very soon found Captain Macy – a fierce and zealous Republican soldier – who listened to all they had to narrate with the utmost interest and attention.

As Mr. Wesley anticipated, he took a very different view of the case from Justice Butler.

"You have done well in coming hither," he said; "and if the young man, Charles Stuart, be captured, as with Heaven's grace he will be, ye shall both be amply rewarded. I will start in pursuit of him at once, Ye say that he and his attendants are gone towards Bridport."

"The person, whom I believe to be Charles Stuart, is gone in that direction," said Reuben. "You will know him, inasmuch as he hath a fair young damsel seated on a pillion behind him."

"Two of his companions took a different course," remarked Hammet. "But no doubt they will rejoin him."

"Charles Stuart is the prize I aim at," cried Captain Macy. "Him will I follow."

"Him will you assuredly capture, provided you loiter not by the way, captain," said Reuben.

"'Tis not my custom to loiter," rejoined Captain Macy. "Thou shalt go with me. I may need thee."

Not five minutes afterwards, he was riding at a rapid trot, at the head of a dozen men, across the hard sands to Charmouth. Mounted on a stout trooper's horse, Reuben rode beside him, and it was a great satisfaction to the spiteful ostler, when the detachment was drawn up before the little inn, and Dame Swan was summoned forth to speak to Captain Macy.

The interrogation did not last many minutes, the captain stating that he would question her further on his return. He was detained a little longer by Mr. Wesley, who wished to have a few words with him, and declared it to be his firm conviction that Charles Stuart had passed the night at Dame Swan's hostel.

After this, Captain Macy gave the word, and the troop trotted off, in the same order as before, on the road to Bridport.

"Heaven grant the king may escape them!" ejaculated the hostess as she returned to her room. "I wonder I didn't sink to the ground when that stern officer spoke to me. I trembled in every limb. This is all that wicked Reuben's doing. I saw the villain with the troopers. May heaven requite him!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

HOW THE KING FLED FROM BRIDPORT HARBOUR

Unconscious of the danger by which he was threatened, and not fearing pursuit, Charles soon slackened his pace, and rode slowly up the side of Stonebarrow Hill towards Moorcomblake. From this elevated point an extensive view over the Vale of Marshwood was obtained, while on the right rose the beacon-crowned summit of the Golden Cap. Charles halted for a short time to contemplate this fine prospect, still hoping that his friends would overtake him; but they came not, and he went on. By this time, he had shaken off his disappointment, and completely recovered his spirits; conversing as gaily as usual with Juliana, and seeming greatly to enjoy the ride.

A little beyond Moorcomblake they met a small band of travellers, and among them was a person whom both his majesty and Colonel Wyndham recognized as having been a servant of the late king. The sight of this man caused them both considerable uneasiness, but he passed on, apparently without noticing them.

After a long descent, they reached Chidiock, and crossing the valley, mounted another hill, which offered charming prospects – a conspicuous object being the singular cone-shaped eminence, known as Colmer's Hill.

Passing several farm-houses, with large orchards attached to them, they approached the pleasant old town of Bridport, delightfully situated among the hills; Colonel Wyndham rode on in advance, and entering the town, to his infinite surprise and vexation, found it full of soldiers. On inquiry, he ascertained that Colonel Haynes, an active Republican commander, was marching troops from several garrisons to Weymouth and other places, in order to embark them for Jersey and Guernsey, as those loyal islands still continued to hold out against the Parliamentarians. The troops now in the town were to be shipped in a few days from Bridport harbour.

Charged with this unsatisfactory intelligence, he rode back to the king, and besought him not to enter the town, which was swarming with his enemies, but Charles refused to turn aside, saying he had promised to wait for Colonel Wilmot and Careless at Bridport, and whatever the consequences might be, he would keep his word. However, he at last consented to proceed to the harbour, but ordered Peters to remain in the town to look after the others. He then rode boldly on, closely attended by Colonel Wyndham.

Round the town-hall was collected a large body of men in steel caps, buff coats, and funnel-topped boots, armed with calivers, pistols, and long basket-hilted swords. Most of them were smoking their pipes. They scrutinised the travellers as they went by, but did not attempt to molest them.

The sight of so many of his foes, who could have captured him in an instant, did not appear to intimidate the king. Juliana's fair cheek was blanched, but she showed no other signs of fear.

Thus they passed through the town without hindrance, and rode on to the port, which was about a mile and a half distant. The little quay was unusually bustling, there being two or three ships in the harbour waiting to convey the troops to Jersey. The pier was a huge, clumsy wooden structure, somewhat resembling Lyme Cobb. Not far from it was the George Inn, and thither the travellers repaired, but they found it full of soldiers; and when Juliana had alighted, and Charles was taking his horse to the stable, he found himself completely environed by troopers. Nothing daunted, however, he pushed his way through the throng, calling out lustily "By your leave," and caring little if he trod on their feet. Colonel Wyndham followed his example, and they both found that with such men rough usage answered better than civility.

Some time elapsed before the slight repast they had ordered in a private room was served, and they had just finished it, when Juliana, who was looking from the window at the quay, perceived Harry Peters. He promptly obeyed the sign she gave him, and coming up-stairs, informed the king that he had been sent by Lord Wilmot to warn his majesty to depart instantly.

"Captain Macy, with a troop of horse from Lyme Regis, is in pursuit of you, my liege," said Peters. "They are now in Bridport, and are searching all the inns, and are certain to come here."

"What is to be done?" cried Charles. "I am caught in a trap. My retreat is cut off."

"Not so, my liege," replied Peters, confidently. "I will engage to deliver you. Get out the horses without delay, and ride towards Bridport."

"But by so doing I shall rush upon destruction," cried Charles.

"You will meet me before you meet the enemy, my liege," replied Peters.

"Well, I will follow thy advice, though it seems strangely hazardous," said Charles.

Peters then left the room and rode off. Hurrying to the stable, Charles and Colonel Wyndham got out their steeds, and in less than ten minutes, the king, with Juliana seated behind him on the pillion, and attended by the colonel, was proceeding at a rapid pace towards Bridport.

When they were within half a mile of the town, they came to a road that turned off on the right, and were debating whether to pursue it or go on, when they heard the clatter of a horse's feet, and the next moment beheld Peters galloping towards them. The faithful fellow signed to them to turn off, and with such energy of action that they instantly obeyed, but were surprised to find he did not follow them, but went on at the same swift pace towards the harbour. His object, however, was soon apparent. The heavy trampling of a troop of horse was heard, mingled with the clank of swords, and the next moment a detachment of cavalry dashed past, evidently in pursuit of the fugitive, who had thus contrived to draw them on, putting his own life in jeopardy to preserve the king. Though Charles himself was concealed by a turn of the road, he clearly distinguished the troopers, and felt sure that their leader was Captain Macy.

Scarcely knowing which way to proceed, but fearing to pass through Bridport, lest they should be stopped, they rode on to a pretty little village called Bothenhampton, and there inquired the road to Dorchester. The person to whom the king addressed this inquiry, stared, and told him he must go back through Bridport, but Charles declined, and they rode on to Shipton Gorge, above which was a remarkable hill shaped like a ship turned keel upwards, with a beacon on the summit, and were directed to proceed to Hammerdon Hill, and this course they took.

Having crossed a high range of furze-covered downs, and traversed a broad common, they were approaching Winterborne Abbas, when they descried their pursuers coming down the hill they had just descended. Captain Macy, no doubt, had heard of the inquiries made by the king as to the road to Dorchester, and had followed in that direction.

Fortunately, a coppice was at hand, and the fugitives managed to conceal themselves within it, till their pursuers had passed. So near were the troopers that the king could hear their shouts, announcing that they felt certain of finding him at Dorchester. After this, Charles required little persuasion to induce him to take a different course, though he could not make up his mind altogether to quit the coast.

Having gained the Roman road which once led to Dorchester, they proceeded along it in the opposite direction, towards a fine down known as Eggardon Hill, the summit of which was crowned by an ancient camp, with very remarkable intrenchments. Thence they proceeded through the downs and along the beautiful valley of the Birt towards Beaminster.

Some seven years previously, Beaminster was a flourishing and cheerful little town, but it now looked like a collection of ruins, having nearly been burnt down in 1644, during the Civil War, and it had only been partially rebuilt. Charles was so struck by the melancholy aspect of the place that he would not halt there as he intended, but proceeded to Broad Windsor, which was about three miles distant.

On the road thither, they descried three persons on horseback on the summit of a high conical hill, called Chartknolle. Evidently, these persons had stationed themselves on this conspicuous position in order to survey the country round. Juliana declared they were their friends, but the king and Colonel Wyndham scarcely dared indulge the hope.

The question, however, was speedily set at rest. Dashing down the side of the hill at a headlong pace came Harry Peters, and he was followed, somewhat more leisurely, by Lord Wilmot and Careless.

It was a joyous meeting, and a few minutes were occupied in mutual congratulations and explanations. Harry Peters, it appeared, had escaped by swimming his horse across the Brit, his pursuers not daring to follow him. He then made his way to Eype, where he encountered Lord Wilmot and Careless, who had galloped thither from Bridport.

At this point Lord Wilmot took up the story:

"Feeling it would be impossible to render your majesty any service at the time," said his lordship, "after a brief consultation, we determined to proceed to Trent, as we could not doubt that you would soon find your way thither. So we rode on to Netherbury and Stoke Abbots. By Careless's advice, we then mounted this hill in order to survey the country, and right glad I am that we did so."

"No post could have been better chosen," said Charles. "Had you been long on the hill top?"

"More than an hour," replied Wilmot. "I confess I thought it useless to remain so long, but Careless judged better, and was loth to depart."

"I had a firm conviction that I should discover your majesty," said Careless. "I saw you when you left Beaminster, and I felt certain it was your majesty from the fair damsel who rides behind you."

"The fair damsel has as quick eyes as you have, and instantly detected you," said the king. "I am right glad we have met. That I myself have escaped is entirely owing to thee, my faithful fellow," he added to Harry Peters. "Hadst thou fallen into the hands of the enemy I should have been truly grieved."

"Heaven be thanked I am still able and ready to serve your majesty," rejoined Peters.

CHAPTER XIX.

BROAD WINDSOR

The king and his companions then rode on to Broad Windsor, and proceeded to the George, the only inn the place contained. Rice Jones was the name of the host, and he and his wife were well known to Colonel Wyndham, having been servants to his uncle, Sir Hugh Wyndham, of Pillesden. Charles was so well pleased with their manner, and with the comfortable appearance of the inn, that he resolved to pass the night there, and bade the colonel secure all the best rooms in the house, which was done. All the party, indeed, were so wearied that they were enchanted at the prospect of a good night's rest, but they did not obtain it, for late in the evening a troop of horse, which was marching to Lyme Regis, arrived in the town, and demanded quarters at the George. Poor Rice Jones humbly represented to them that all the rooms were engaged, but this did not satisfy the troopers. They insisted on being accommodated, and when Jones protested it was quite out of his power to oblige them, they took complete possession of the lower part of the house, and made such a disturbance that the occupants of the rooms above could not obtain a wink of slumber. The noise was bad enough, but Charles and the others were not without apprehensions that the officer in command of the troop might compel them to appear before him. This danger, however, they escaped, owing to the management of Rice Jones and his wife, who answered for them.