Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651Ainsworth, William Harrison
History
Boscobel; or, the royal oak: A tale of the year 1651
Ainsworth, William Harrison
Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction
Acting on this advice, the colonel, on entering the yard, addressed a
few words to the soldiers, telling them he was glad to see them, and
adding that they should have as much ale as they liked. The prudence of
this course was soon shown. The men thanked him, and allowed him and
Careless to pass on unquestioned, but Charles was not quite so lucky. A
stalwart trooper laid hold of his bridle, and declared he must give an
account of himself.
"I will answer for him," cried Juliana. "He is my groom, and as true a
man as ever breathed."
"True to whom?" demanded the trooper, gruffly.
"To the Parliament, to be sure," said Charles. "I am ready to drink Old
Noll's health."
"Coupled with the wish that he may soon be king?" said the trooper.
"I forbid him to drink that toast," cried Juliana.
"Why so, fair mistress?" demanded the trooper, knitting his brows.
"Because it would be treason to the state," she rejoined.
"Nay, friend, I have no such scruples," remarked Charles, in an
undertone to the trooper. "I will bring you a stoop of good liquor
anon, and then we will drink any toast you please."
"Verily, thou art a true man," rejoined the trooper. "Thou shalt learn
to whom thou speakest. I am Fetch-him-out-of-the-Pulpit Strongitharm,
by whose hand the young man Charles Stuart was slain."
"Was Charles Stuart slain by thee?" exclaimed the king.
"Yea, verily by me," rejoined Strongitharm, exultingly. "The buff coat
which I now wear forms part of the spoils taken from the body of the
Malignant Prince. Pass on."
As may well be imagined, old Lady Wyndham and her daughter-in-law were
in great consternation at this visit, but owing to the prudent and
conciliatory measures adopted by Harry Peters, the annoyance was very
slight. Some of the troopers certainly entered the house, but they did
not get beyond the kitchen, where they were very well entertained.
Charles, however, was obliged to remain in the stables, and to mingle
with the red-coats, but he comported himself so well that no suspicion
whatever attached to him. How could it, indeed, when after listening
to a further account from Strongitharm of his own death and burial, he
emphatically declared that England had had a great deliverance!
Later on in the day, the troopers marched off for Yeovil, where they
meant to pass the night. The inmates of Trent House were thus relieved
from anxiety, and Charles was able to return to his room.
At dusk, bonfires were lighted by the sectarian villagers to celebrate
Cromwell's great victory at Worcester. The flames could be seen from
the king's windows, and the shouts reached his ears.
"'Tis Cromwell's turn now--it may be mine to-morrow," remarked Charles
to Mr. Langton, who was with him at the time.
"Heaven grant it!" exclaimed the divine. "This poor misguided folk
will shout quite as loudly as they do now--ay, and light just as large
bonfires when your majesty is happily restored to the throne."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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