Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
“No unnecessary violence at least,” said the good knight; “for if the
time demands it, I will have it seen that I am master of my own house.”
Joceline Joliffe nodded assent to all parties, and went on tiptoe to
exchange one or two other mysterious symbols and knocks, ere he opened
the door. It, may be here remarked, that this species of secret
association, with its signals of union, existed among the more
dissolute and desperate class of cavaliers, men habituated to the
dissipated life which they had been accustomed to in an ill-disciplined
army, where everything like order and regularity was too apt to be
accounted a badge of puritanism. These were the “roaring boys” who met
in hedge alehouses, and when they had by any chance obtained a little
money or a little credit, determined to create a counter-revolution by
declaring their sittings permanent, and proclaimed, in the words of one
of their choicest ditties,—
“We’ll drink till we bring
In triumph back the king.”
The leaders and gentry, of a higher description and more regular
morals, did not indeed partake such excesses, but they still kept their
eye upon a class of persons, who, from courage and desperation, were
capable of serving on an advantageous occasion the fallen cause of
royalty; and recorded the lodges and blind taverns at which they met,
as wholesale merchants know the houses of call of the mechanics whom
they may have occasion to employ, and can tell where they may find them
when need requires it. It is scarce necessary to add, that among the
lower class, and sometimes even among the higher, there were men found
capable of betraying the projects and conspiracies of their associates,
whether well or indifferently combined, to the governors of the state.
Cromwell, in particular, had gained some correspondents of this kind of
the highest rank, and of the most undoubted character, among the
royalists, who, if they made scruple of impeaching or betraying
individuals who confided in them, had no hesitation in giving the
government such general information as served to enable him to
disappoint the purposes of any plot or conspiracy.
To return to our story. In much shorter time than we have spent in
reminding the reader of these historical particulars, Joliffe had made
his mystic communication; and being duly answered as by one of the
initiated, he undid the door, and there entered our old friend Roger
Wildrake, round-head in dress, as his safety and dependence on Colonel
Everard compelled him to be, but that dress worn in a most
cavalier-like manner, and forming a stronger contrast than usual with
the demeanour and language of the wearer, to which it was never very
congenial.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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