With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great RebellionChurch, Alfred John
History
With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great Rebellion
Church, Alfred John
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
down an order from the Court that the school be shut. And this was
done on the seventeenth of May, 1636.
I remember that we heard this news with a great shout of joy; for boys
would rejoice in holiday though it should be brought about by the
ending of the world; and now there was prospect of such a holiday as
never had been known; and indeed the scholars were not again assembled
together for the space of a year and five months, though Mr. Edwards,
the chief master, taught some boys during that whole time, lest the
school altogether ceasing to be, its property should be diverted
elsewhere. But I was too young to be one of these.
As for myself, there was no small questioning what had better be done
with me. My father indeed, as soon as there was talk of the school
being shut up, had sent word that I should come home to him. But this
was not easy to be done. For there was great fear throughout the
country lest travellers from London should bring the infection of the
disease with them, so that the roads were diligently watched, and all
that were suspected of hailing thence were forthwith sent back,
sometimes not without much maltreatment. This being so the river was
the only highway that was left open. On this travellers were not
hindered, provided only that they did not go forth from their boat
into the villages round about. And by this highway I did in the end
return home.
On the eleventh of June, for I remember that it was election day at
the school, though the customary festivities were intermitted by
reason of the plague, comes Richard Beasley with his barge, having
with him a load of timber, and what I counted of more worth by far,
the commandment from my father that I should return with him. And this
I did about a sennight after, when he had finished the unloading of
his cargo. We were six days on our journey, and I think that I never
had so delightful a time. First it was no small joy to be quit for a
time of London, which was indeed in those days a most dreadful place.
None were seen in the streets save such as had urgent business; and
these walked at such speed as if death were after them, (as indeed in
a sense it was,) holding a handkerchief or pomander with some scent,
recommended by the faculty, to their noses, as a safeguard against
infection. As for the gallants in their brave attire and the fair
matrons and damsels that had been wont to throng the public ways, they
were invisible, and the church bells never gave forth a merry peal,
but were tolling continually, till indeed this was forbidden as
augmenting the terror of the citizens. And there passed continually
along the streets the funerals of the wealthier sort of people and
their families. But as for the poorer, the dead-cart carried them to
their burying places, and this I, lying awake at night, have often
heard rumbling awfully along, and also the cry of the men asking,
whenever they saw a house shut up, whether there was anything for
them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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