When Charles the First Was King

Stapleton Woods that skirt the highway, down the road into Darrington village and up the hill beyond with hardly a break in the pace, along the highway past Grove and Castle Laith, on into Ferrybridge, across the river, and up the long hill past Brotherton and Byram, and so into the great level plain that leads to York. A fierce, mad feeling of delight seemed to come over me as we swept along in that grand gallop. I laughed and shouted and the horse beneath me heard and answered with a merry neigh. I sang to him, praised him, called him many a pet name, leaned forward and patted his great neck and shoulders, and promised him such delights as horses care for. And still on he swept, now stretching away at a raking gallop, now dropping into a trot, but never abating the speed that was drawing us nearer and nearer to York.

On, still on! Past Monk Frystone and Sherburn, through Barkston and Saxton, through Towton and Stretton, and so into Tadcaster ere yet it was an hour past midnight. I went steadily through the quiet little town, fearing lest some enemy should wonder at our great pace, but once outside we went on again past Bilbrough and Copmanthorpe until we came to Askham Bryan. And there I drew rein and pondered on what to do, for already the morning was beginning to break, and just before me the towers of the great Minster rose high in the dim light. I knew not where the Royalist forces were, nor where the enemy lay, and I feared to fall into the hands of the latter. But at last I went forward at a steady trot towards the city, intending, if I were questioned, to say that I was a farmer riding into market. And having skirted the city a little I went in at last through Mickle Gate, having met with no opposition on that side, and presently drew rein at my old inn, the Swan, in Pavement. And there came a great surprise, for I had no sooner leaped from Captain’s back than I saw Philip Lisle and Jack Drumbleforth leaning from an upper window in the courtyard, gazing at me with astonished faces.

XXV

Of the Great Fight at Marston Moor

I was something more than surprised to see my two friends staring at me from their upper window, for I had no idea but that they were hundreds of miles away. Nevertheless, so heartily glad was I to see them where I had not expected to meet aught in the shape of friends, that I immediately called to them in a loud voice, bidding them come down to me quickly. And so they were presently at my side in the inn yard, shaking my hands and asking a hundred questions at once about the folks at home.

“But what brings thee here, Will?” asked Jack. “Art come to help us against the King’s enemies? There will be fighting in these parts ere the day is over, or I am a false prophet.”

“I have ridden here on important business,” I answered, and drawing them aside, told them my story. “The letter,” I said, “is safe in my horse’s saddle. Let us take him into some stable and get it out.”

“Nay,” said Philip, “the city is in our hands and there is no fear of spying eyes.”

So I took the packet from its hiding-place and handed it over to Philip, who, having examined it, gave it as his opinion that it was from the King at Oxford.

“We must lose no time in delivering this,” said he. “Let us stable your horse, Will, and then find Lord Newcastle’s lodging. He is like to be in bed at this hour, but we will wake him quickly enough. Matters are come to a crisis here, but now this despatch may give a new turn to affairs.”

On going out again into the streets we found that the city was beginning to wake. Soldiers were hurrying about, and the inn yards were noisy with the clank of armour and the stamping of horses. Men were making preparations for the day. Here a trooper was repairing his harness or putting a new edge to his sword; there a foot soldier was examining his matchlock. To me, who had never seen aught of war, it looked a strange sight, that preparation for bloodshed on the fair July morning, with the peaceful towers of the great Minster looking down on the quiet city.

When we came to Lord Newcastle’s lodging, we found that the folks there were already astir, for men, richly attired, were passing in through the door and disappearing inside.

“Ah!” said Philip, “the Marquis hath called a council even at this early hour. See, that is Sir William Wentworth that is just now entering, and yonder comes Sir William Langdale. Thy despatch, Will, if it be important, comes in good time.”

We went into the hall of the house and there awaited awhile until, Sir William Langdale having entered the council-room, the doors were closed and a guard stationed before them.

“They have all arrived,” said Philip; “I had thought there were more to come. The Marquis likes not interruptions, but we must make our business known.”

And he spoke to an officer that just then passed across the hall, and whom he addressed as Colonel Eury.

“A despatch!” said the colonel, holding out his hand. “Give it to me and I will hand it to the Marquis. He hath the Prince and various commanders with him, but if the matter is important⁠—”

“With your pardon, sir,” I said, “I must hand the packet to Lord Newcastle myself. That I solemnly promised to the officer that gave it to my care.”

He looked at me for an instant, then nodded and went into the council-room.

“They will send for thee in, Will,” whispered Jack. “Hold thy head high and speak up.”

Now, I was not minded to go into the presence