The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2)Sherer, Moyle
History
The Broken Font: A Story of the Civil War, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Sherer, Moyle
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
support; another had a family of children; and that man had just
married a wife. Others, who were not provided with such good excuses,
feigned deafness, bad eyes, lame shoulders, weak ankle bones, fits,
rheumatic pains, or some other disqualification, to escape the irksome
duties of praying and fighting under Puritan commanders. Many kissed
their own thumbs instead of the Bible when they took their oaths of
service, meaning to desert the first opportunity that offered; still
there were numbers of idle rustics who came when they were called out,
and did as they were bid, without further question; and these, in
spite of their officers and sergeants, and Puritan comrades, contrived
their own amusements, and laughed at the grave preachments which
forbade them.
As a file of these young swains passed Cuthbert, one struck the end of
a lighted match under his pony’s tail; and to the astonishment of
Cuthbert, and the disturbance of the whole division following, the
poor animal, hitherto as lazy and patient as a laden donkey, began
kicking with such sudden activity and vigour, that the rider had some
difficulty in keeping his seat. However, though inwardly vexed,
Cuthbert stuck close to the saddle, and putting a good face on the
vexatious incident disarmed the laughter which was at first generally
excited by joining in it himself, till a humane sergeant plucked away
the burning cause of the animal’s pain and terror,--and the frightened
beast stood still, trembling and in a bath of sweat. Until this
moment Cuthbert was at a loss to know what had so alarmed his pony;
but he now alighted and made a complaint about what had been done to
an officer that was passing.
The grave personage whom he addressed said, with a sly
smile,--“Verily, friend, thy little garron was in the way, and I
counsel thee to patience in this matter:--there is no harm done, and
verily thou didst stick to thy saddle like a sergeant-major of
cavalry.”
Without waiting for any rejoinder, the officer marched on; and no
sooner had the infantry defiled, than the shrill tones of a few
trumpets announced the advance of four troops of horse. As these fine
men walked their powerful animals along the street, they cast down
looks of contempt upon poor Cuthbert and his little hack; and he could
not but feel that he had never as yet rightly conceived what were the
naked realities of soldiership. There were far more unpleasant and
painful experiences to come than the petty mortifications of this his
first contact with troops. However, he had a wise, generous, and noble
friend to instruct and arm his mind in the path on which he had
entered; and his spirit was now in its first moment of weakness and
need sustained and comforted by his appearance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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