“I would go willingly enough if it were not for that,” said I, explaining my reasons to Philip Lisle. “But it would seem that duty calls me to abide here presently.”
“Tut, lad,” said he, “duty calls thee to the King’s side. The women are safe enow here, and as for the farm and stock, why, thy mother and Jacob Trusty will take good care of it, I warrant. Come, go with me, Will.”
“Let me think the matter over,” said I. “I am much inclined to go with you. Think you the war will come this way?”
“Nay,” he said, “who can say? I think it will not be of long endurance. The King is getting him a strong army together, and should read these fellows such a lesson that they will quickly lay down their arms and submit themselves to his Majesty’s clemency.”
“Who leads the Parliamentary forces, sir?” asked Jack.
“That is not yet known, lad, but it is said the Earl of Essex will take command. ’Tis a sober and steady head, but he hath not the military genius. He will be prudent and wary, and will fight you a battle admirably on paper, but he will fail in those flashes of genius which show the great soldier.”
“And the King, sir, who hath he to advise him?”
“Why, lad, he hath Falkland, and he hath Prince Rupert, and he hath Hyde—three counsellors from whom he will gain a diversity of opinions. It is on Rupert that I rely. There, lads, is a soldier for you! Full of dash and fire he is, and will lead a cavalry charge against whatever obstacle comes in his way. Hah! we shall have some fine times of it when Rupert falls upon these psalm-singing rascals.”
“Master Oldthwaite would say, sir, that these same psalm-singing rascals will show fight,” said Jack Drumbleforth.
“Master Oldthwaite, Jack, is a seditious old knave, or, if that term be too strong, he is not well disposed towards his Majesty. I fear he will do some harm about this district, that same Master Oldthwaite.”
“He is not alone,” said Ben Tuckett, “in his advocacy of the Parliamentary cause. For whether you know it or not, Master Lisle, this part of the land is not for his Majesty.”
“I know it well enough, Ben, and there is therefore the greater need of care in what those say who are for the King. No, lads, it is the north and west of the land that favours the King; the south and the east are against his Majesty, led away as they are by their agitating leaders.”
“I have heard say,” continued Ben, “that there will be trouble in our town, for whichever party holds the Castle, the other will not rest until it hath dislodged it. Alas! ’tis a sad business, and one that fills me with much concern.”
“Come with me to the wars then, Ben,” said Jack Drumbleforth. “I warrant that arm of thine can strike a blow for the King to some purpose.”
“I am not without some strength,” said Ben, shaking his fist, “but I shall not use it in this quarrel, Jack, unless it be to defend myself or my own. What, because Tom and Bill choose to fall out and fight, is that any reason why I should get my head broken between them?”
“ ’Tis a false parallel, sir,” said Philip Lisle.
“With submission, sir, ’tis a very true one. Did I do aught to encourage King and Parliament in going to war with each other? To tell the truth, I care no jot for either, being a free man and a burgess. Let them that made the quarrel settle the quarrel. God grant that in the settling they ruin not the land!”
This method of dealing with the matter did not seem to find much favour with Philip Lisle, who only regarded the subject from one point of view, and liked not that anyone should deal with it from any other.
“I am sorry, lad,” said he, “that thou hast so little loyalty to thy sovereign. Young men, however, are not what they were, for at one time a lusty fellow like thee would have seized his pike and struck a blow for Merry England.”
“An it come to striking a blow for Merry England, sir,” said Ben, “I am with you. Let Spaniard or Turk so much as set foot within the land, and I will show you whether or no I will fight. Yea, then I would fight till I could fight no more. But is this quarrel for England?”
“Yea,” said Philip Lisle, “for England and the liberties of the English people.”
In that he expressed the sentiments of the Royalists. It was the watchword of the cause, even as the King said years later on the fatal scaffold at Whitehall.
“At any rate,” said Jack Drumbleforth, “I am going, and woe be to the seditious knave that comes in my way! Who knows? I may carve my way to fortune. Sir John Drumbleforth would sound well, or even Baron Drumbleforth. Thou seest, Ben, what a chance thou art missing—Baron Tuckett, or Sir Benjamin. Well, God send us all safe out of it!”
XIV
Of the Disturbance in Pontefract Marketplace
It can hardly be said that Philip Lisle’s appeal to those gathered together in our barn had met with much success, for of all the men he spoke to, only two
