Love the Leveller. A tale of the Great Rebellion

Chapter I. More

than usually animated was the appearance of the London streets, one bright morning in January, of the year 164 1-2. That something of extraordinary interest was astir, that grave and weighty matters engrossed men's minds, that the fever of revolt had mortally infected the English constitution, was not to be doubted, if the sinister and resolute, or the exulting and defiant aspect of the multitudes who thronged the route to Whitehall might be taken as an index of the fierce and stormy passions which had grown too strong for suppression. The excitement caused by the attempted arrest of the five members had not yet subsided ; and the city 'prentices, anxious no doubt to maintain their reputation as the champions of popular freedom, had resolved to give a public expression to their indignation and resentment.

Rumour said that Charles was about to leave London, and his loving subjects were determined he should not escape the demon stration they were preparing for him. It was still early when the procession, leaving Cheapside and winding round the south side of St. Paul's, entered Ludgate Hill. Even then it was no insignificant spectacle. The sturdy youths bearing aloft the banners, and wearing the insignia of their crafts, whilst above over all floated the word " Liberty," seemed little unworthy of the great city they professed to represent. Some sober-minded citizens, not loving the constitution less but peace and safety more, kept within doors, and, watching the excited throng go by, prayed heaven no harm might come of it. But these were the exception ; and the procession, with its sym pathizing followers swollen in passing the neighbour hood of Whitefriars by hundreds, who contributed, if not to its respectability, at least to its numerical force, marched westwards to Whitehall, in the exulting consciousness of strength and immunity in numbers.

Arrived at the Palace, the advantages of position were easily secured by the more bold and able, to whom, not however without some inconvenience to them selves, the weaker and less daring instinctively gave way. With these leaders to the fore of their closely packed ranks, the citizens presented a formidable appearance; their tall uplifted staves and sternly serious countenances adding a certain impressiveness to an otherwise motley and incongruous crowd. The Abbey bells rang out the hour of noon ; but as yet there was no sign of the King's approach. As time wore on, murmurs and indignant protests passed from mouth to mouth, voices were raised in loud altercation, until a contemptuous whisper was started, and then ran like wildfire through the crowd. " Perchance the Court hearing of the projected demonstration, and wishing to avoid so unpleasant a reception, has secretly sought refuge in flight !"

Shall cowardice before the enemy be added to the already long catalogue of Charles Stuart's offences ? Not yet at least. So far the King had not shown himself wanting in boldness, nor on this occasion had his courage failed him. Meanwhile the crowds without were pushing and jostling one another with renewed energies, some in the vain hope of escape after their disappointment, others, the greater number, still remaining, unwilling entirely to relinquish all chance of seeing their expec tations fulfilled. At last several guards in the royal livery appeared, and within there were evidences that the patience of the bystanders was about to be rewarded. Like the waves of the restless sea, the front ranks, pressed on by those behind, surged and swayed before the Palace gates ; and in one of these movements a bold and comely lad of about fourteen found himself suddenly thrust to the fore.

Elated at this most unexpected good fortune, yet not content with his present position, he climbed up the nearest gate-post with astonishing agility. Thus perched, out of reach of the seething masses below, and in full view of the pageant which he would have braved much more to behold, he looked proudly around him, smiling satis factorily at his success. " Who is he that thus lifts himself up above his fel lows ?" cried out several "voices at once, and angry threats and jealous glances were thrown menacingly up at him. " Go to.! go to ! sirs," remonstrated a pleasant-looking individual, who was panting and puffing at the same time as smiling placidly amongst the crowd. " What would ye ? The lad, I'll warrant me, meaneth no harm to any one of ye, and odd's life, 'tis as pretty a youngster as ever I set eyes on !"

The subject of this flattering notice, entirely uncon scious of the adverse criticism he had evoked, was deeply absorbed at that moment in the preparations going forward within the Palace precincts. Soon all eyes followed his in the same direction. The gates were at last thrown open, equerries and attendants were standing about the great staircase, and a file of soldiers lined the vestibule as the royal carriages drew up in stately procession. The King and his family appeared amid a deep and ominous silence, and the few faint cheers that greeted his presence withered beneath the blight of that chilling reception. Every head was turned one way, as Charles, with a pitying smile on his lips, and a sorrowful light in his eyes which haunted the bystanders to their dying day, led the Queen to a seat in her carriage.

It was i — observable that as Henrietta hurried past* with her two little princes clinging tightly to her skirts, she cast a troubled glance upward at the flaunting emblems waving above her and trembled as she read their fell inscriptions. At the same moment a solitary voice was raised, and the old cry of " God save your Majesty!" reached the King, as he was about to hand the children in to their mother. He turned quickly, and beholding, astride on one of the posts, a boyish figure, bareheaded and waving his cap lustily, he graciously raised his own, and smiled in friendly acknowledgment of the salute. The lad's heart gave a great leap, and with eyes sparkling with pleasure he looked round him again, another and a louder cheer upon his lips. But that cheer suddenly changed into a cry : a heavy blow, dealt him adroitly from behind, hurled him senseless and bleeding to the ground The Royal cortege had left White hall ; the people were dispersing, when the sound of their voices, and the swish of their garments as they brushed past him, roused the still prostrate boy.

Only those who had been near him at the time had heard his cry and seen his fall ; and most of these, after the first alarm of danger was over, soon forgot, or scarcely troubled themselves about the sufferer. Some, seeing him lie there, pitied and passed on ; some stooped to examine, and ended by declaring it as their opinion that the fellow had well merited some rebuke for his rash and ill-timed demonstrativeness ; while others, too engrossed by the morning's adventure to waste time on such a trifle, left to the never-failing Samaritan the merit and burthen of neighbourly help. A few had pointed significantly to a retreating figure, whose dark, forbidding visage, and close proximity to the lad, marked him as a likely subject for suspicion. Luckily for the lad, the Samaritan was not far distant, and in the person of his former champion (a ci-devant vintner in the City) came forward, his honest face now overcast with alarm and anxiety, " Make room, make room, my masters !" he cried, * See Miss Strickland's " Lives of the Queens of England." making his way through and addressing the ring of idle, stupidly-staring loungers who had gathered round the prostrate form.

" Out on ye, for a pack of listless lazy loons, suffering the lad to lie here helpless, and ye stirring not hand or foot ! Come, come ! disperse yourselves, an you have not a mind for further mis chief. The youngster has not space to breathe, and Gad !" (drawing himself up wearily), "'tis mighty fine work at my time of life raking and rioting with the worst of ye." The idlers soon sauntered away after hearing this vigorous appeal ; and having cleared a space as far as he was able, the worthy citizen next knelt down by the boy, and taking one of his cold hands into his, com menced to chafe it with a gentleness which was no stranger to those rough and willing palms. Then he looked round for assistance, and observing a young fejlow who still lingered after most of his companions had beaten an ignominious retreat, the vintner beckoned and whispered him.

"Fetch me a coach, sirrah; and, an you would have me further beholden to yon, a leech in it. I prythee be speedy though, for 'tis growing late, and I am not over patient." The vintner returned to his charge, and saw with much satisfaction that, although the lad had not yet spoken, his eyes betokened returning consciousness, and some warmth seemed restored to his limbs. But these intervals of consciousness were short; for though the pain was less, weakness had set in, and the cold and exposure numbed his faculties of mind and body. After a good half hour's suspense, which, in spite of his charitable intentions, could not but be trying to the worthy citizen's endurance, a coach drove up and set down the first surgeon whom the messenger's good speed had chanced to find at liberty. The surgeon there and then began his examination of the patient, and soon declared that he was suffering from nothing worse than syncope and the weakness attend ing a severe sprain.

The flow of blood from the head, which had so alarmed the vintner, was soon stopped ; and by the surgeon's advice the lad was lifted into the coach, and the driver bidden to carry them to Mr. Incledon's house in Fleet Street. And so they jolted on over the roughly-paved streets ; the rattling of the window-frames and the shouting ofthe multitude, loud enough, one would think, to waken the seven sleepers of Ephesus, being powerless to rouse their patient from his lethargic condition. The mob was still in possession of the City; a crovyd of ragged, yelling urchins following the coach to its destination. With some difficulty Mr. Incledon forced a passage to his door. A quarter of an hour later, when the surgeon left with his fee in his pocket, he stole out by the back door, wisely resolving to take another route home again.

It was not long after this that the vintner happened to look into the room where he had left the lad stretched upon a couch by the window ; entering softly that he might not thus disturb the patient. To his surprise, however, as he peeped in on tiptoe, he be held the before-mentioned patient comfortably settled with his elbows on the window-sill, gazing wonderingly out at the street and the people below. " Why, this is Fleet Street," exclaimed the boy, in a tone of astonishment, at the same time turning a pair of puzzled blue eyes on the intruder. "Aye, this is Fleet Street, sure enough," returned the latter, and he seized hold of one of the lad's temptingly convenient locks, and gave it a hearty twitch. " And what dost mean, thou curly-pated rascal, staring me in the face so boldly, as though thou hadst not given one cause enough already to rate thee soundly on thy rashness ?

By Gad ! thou joinest assurance to folly, and from so illmated a couple what would you but ruin and ruefulness ?" The youngster's brow darkened at this singular address, for he did not see the smile lurking round the corners of Incledon's mouth, and had scarcely re covered from his surprise at finding himself where he was. '■ Prythee, sir, how came I here ? Will it please you to explain this mystery, and why you speak to me thns ? Was not some one with you here but lately ? Methought I heard voices near me just before I woke, and found myself alone." This, and a host of such like bewildering questions and half recollections, was the answer which Mr. Incledon received to his first inquiry. But the good man's patience was proof against all assaults ; he quietly sat down, all his assumed displeasure having long ago left him, and prepared to satisfy his inter rogator.

" How came you here ? The coach brought you, man ; how else, I prythee, seeing that you could not carry yourself. And touching the explanation of this mystery, it would seem that you should yourself in the first place declare wherefore it pleased you to cry out for the King in the very hearing of Roundheads and rioters." " Aye," interrupted the youth, with a sudden flash of remembrance. " I mind it all now. "Twas that villanous rebel behind me. I did not see his face, but he raised his fist as I was about to turn round, and " "Threw you down," rejoined the vintner,not unheed ing the rising indignation which had at last completely mastered his companion and prevented him finishing the sentence. " Come, never mind," continued Incle don. " The knave who would take such a miserable advantage is surely not worth an honest lad's resentment.

I started a chase for the cur, but not finding him we sent for a leech instead, and carried you here in the coach. I e'en took it upon me to go bail for thy orthodoxy ; for, 'fore George ! some of those cut throat devils would have it you were a King's bastard, until I vouched my name, and swore not a drunken dog among them should live to know the taste of my last October's brew, an they left me not in peace to my own concerns. Sir, they fled like sheep before the scatterer." The lad had listened in silence ; but when the vintner had finished speaking, he turned away from the window and came forward a step or two, with heightened colour on his cheeks, and his blue eyes beaming with frank apology. " 'Twas mighty uncivil of me, surely, sir, not to thank you before this for your timely interest in my behalf; but 'twas more my ignorance, my stupid bewilderment, believe me, and not any want of grati tude on my part."

" On my word, my young friend," interposed Incle don, gaily, " now you mention it, I was, in sooth, well nigh speechless with astonishment at finding thee so suddenly recovered. Thy wits relieved thee marvel lous soon, Master Tawnylocks, as I can testify to my cost !" Thus, half in earnest, half in jest, Mr. Incledon proceeded to administer a well-meant rebuke to the youthful culprit upon his heedless and dangerous en thusiasm, finishing up with such smart sallies of raillery upon his loyalist proclivities as softened the effect of the reproof, and effectually restored the lad's former self-possession. He soon returned the vintner's re partee with equal skill and superior spirit ; ably vindicating the opinions which, from having suffered for, he now felt himself bound henceforth to maintain.

And so the time passed on, till at last breaking off in the middle of an eloquent harangue, the lad seeming suddenly to recollect his position, faltered out that " it was time to go, and he had already trespassed too long." " Tut ! tut ! Sir Stranger," remonstrated the vintner, indignantly ; " you would not take leave of me thus ! On my word, 'tis most ungracious, sir ! I could not have deemed it possible you would part so easily from a newly-made acquaintance !" " Pardon, sir, I must indeed ! Think not 'tis from lack of gratitude, nor from an insensibility to your kindness, but " " But," echoed the vintner, in a tone of comprehen sion, "thou art impatient to be home — thy mother, perchance, will be anxious ; thy father angry ? But, I'll wager, friend, both mother and father would rate thee much more, an thou returnest to them faint and fasting !"

" Alas !" said the boy, between a smile and a sigh, " I have no father nor mother." Incledon looked at the lad for the moment with quite another interest in his eyes, but quickly rejoined in a cheery tone, as he noticed the shadow which had come over the usually sunny face : " The better reason then that thou shouldst tarry with me, since thou art thy own master, and I shall be absolved from encroaching upon another's claims. Come, sit down ! 'tis high time we had dinner, for I'm as hungry as a trooper ; and you, I'll warrant, can make shift with a pasty and some roast rib of beef." This time, then, the lad did not refuse : it was so late already that he thought he might as well make a day of it ; and, certainly, the consequences could be little more discouraging. So they amused themselves with watching the rioters, the brawls, and the tumult in the street, whilst a trim servant-maid quickly covered the table with the requisites and accessories of a good and substantial repast ; Incledon ever and anon casting a vigilant eye on the operation, and re questing Phœbe to confine her distracted attentions to her immediate employment, and not conduct her self as one unaccustomed to the acquaintance of youth and good looks.

The damsel having at last put everything on the table, retired ; and Incledon and his guest very willingly took their seats at the friendly board. The bachelor-host presided at one end, be hind the juicy rib of beef; a venison pasty of goodly proportions, supported by sundry bottles of wine, almost entirely concealing his companion from the vintner's view. Mr. Incledon was a bon vivant by habit and conviction ; his table was as much the object of his attentions as literature or politics ; for whatever he turned his fancy to, that must of neces sity be unique and complete. But what Incledon loved more than the pleasures of the plate, was dis pensing the same to his friends and acquaintance ; great, therefore, was his disappointment, when, long inured as he was to the discriminating appreciation of the frequenters of the " Mermaid," he discovered the limited powers and scanty appetite of his present guest !

It took some time to convince the host that all were not gifted with equal capacity, that allowance should be made for youth, inexperience, and the vicis situdes of nature, so that the lad was beginning to lose patience, and his friend all faith in the lad's perfections. Happily, however, the discussion ended by a reference from the guest to the books which had caught his eye some time ago, and which he reverted to now, in the hopes of a lucky turn being afforded to the conversation. After this the good-natured host was himself again, and, save by occasional glances at his companion's plate and mute appeals to the un tasted pasty, of which the lad virtuously took no notice, the unlucky source of their discussion was not again mentioned. Incledon had to drink his wine unassisted (and this was a sore infliction, for the vintner's stores had never stinted his cellar), although he did his guest the justice to remark, that " abstinence from malt, wine, and the like spirituous liquor rightly beseemed the condition of youth."

With this concession, the two were better friends than ever, and upon the strength of their growing familiarity, the youth determined to unburden himself somewhat as to his private history and ex periences. " Hold ! I prythee, one moment, fair comrade !" cried Incledon, as the lad was about to launch forth after the fashion of artless youth, into the inviting sea of his present grievances and prospective triumph ; " let us start fair. So far, we have been but as strangers to each other ; marry then, say I, with all my heart, let us be so no longer. Thy name then, youngster ? — Mine is Incledon." "And mine Arthur Lyndwode." " Why, surely not," exclaimed the host, in a tone of the greatest surprise — "surely not honest Simon Lynd wode's son !" "None other," was the answer. " An I mind me rightly, your mother died before your father ?"

The lad nodded his head in assent. Both were silent then ; Incledon seemingly moved by recollection of old faces and bygone days. His eyes moistened and his voice was altered when he spoke again. " Aye," he said, sadly, " methinks it seems but the other day I went into his shop, and found it full of Court dames and smooth-faced gallants ! 'Twas a fine custom, surely — the best in the city, and a pretty thing it would have been, had Simon been spared to enjoy it. Eh, well ! you youngsters of an other generation will never see the sights that / have seen !" The lad was listening with his great eager eyes, drinking in greedily every word of his father's praise. He felt proud of his father; overjoyed to hear good of one whose only virtue he had been taught to respect was the great gift of money-making.

Here was one who knew him, perhaps intimately ; he at least must gratify this mighty craving ! " Tell me, sir, I beseech you," he said, looking up earnestly into the vintner's face, with a feeling akin to veneration, "tell me all you know of my father?" " Willingly, my lad," said the citizen, wiping his eyes to return Lyndwode's questioning gaze. " Would to -God I had done my duty by him better than I have ! But you were such a mite of a thing at the time ! such an heir to heaven knows how much ! so surrounded by guardians, and nurses, and lawyers, and •legatees, and executors, that there was no need, methought, of outsiders like myself ; and somehow or other I was foolish enough to think myself slighted by some one of your mother's relations, and after following your father's funeral down the Chepe, went home, vowing never again to mix myself in other people's affairs !"

" That must have been Uncle Attridge !" said Ar thur, in allusion to this cause of the vintner's estrange ment. "You are right, boy, 'twas some such name, and—" " But, prythee, never mind him ; he is an old man now," interposed Arthur, very quickly; "tell me of my father's funeral ? Were there not crowds at it ? And did not my lord somebody and ever so many noblemen send their carriages ? and was not my father a mighty great man ?" cried the lad, in a tumult of breathless impatience. " Softly, softly, my good youth," implored Incledon, rising from the table, and instantly pursued by his interrogator. " Thy father was a good man, I should say — an honest merchant, a loyal subject ! He was likewise the most prosperous craftsman of his day — esteemed a skilful worker in metals and precious sub stances, and though a shrewd, withal a generous and unselfish man !"

" Thank God," exclaimed Lyndwode, much relieved, " I need mind no one now !" " And wherefore not, my lad ?" asked Incledon, startled somewhat at this abrupt and unintelligible declaration. Arthur hung down his head. " Truth to say, sir," he faltered, " I have been sorely troubled sometimes what answer to make to the re flections — imputations which, unjustly to my thinking, are cast upon my father's memory !" " What !" cried the vintner, in great wrath. " Asper sion ! reflection ! on thy father's memory, boy ! What were these ? prythee tell me at once !" "Oh, nothing worth the mentioning, sir; only doubt less I have been over-ticklish, and it liked me not to hear them say he came not honestly by the wealth — that he was disloyal — a friend to Puritans, and the like !" " And who, in the devil's name, hath deluded thee thus, my poor lad ?" roared Incledon, whose anger had soon changed to laughter on hearing the nature of these charges.

" Why, thy father was the staunchest of subjects ! making his money, an you will, by Court favour and custom, but the soul of honesty — somewhat scrupulous withal, and preferring the balance on his neighbour's side rather than his own. I would not disguise from thee, however, friend Lyndwode, that thy father's religion and over-nice stickling for fair trading, together with the King's partiality for his work, did him no good with his fellow-tradesmen ; his rivals, jealous of his just renown, and his ill-wishers, gladly circulating any false rumours to his discredit. This, then, is the origin of divers malicious reports which it much astonisheth me should have survived his death so long ! Give no heed to them, since thou seest now that none other than evil-disposed or design ing persons would repeat such falsehoods."

Lyndwode, after listening attentively to this vindi cation, professed himself much obliged for Mr. Incle don's explanation, and fully satisfied as to his father's integrity, which he inwardly vowed to lose no oppor tunity of asserting, with the refutation of the many calumnies he had hitherto been under the necessity of enduring in silence. The vintner had observed the lad's unusual abstraction, before he was convinced of its intensity by the expressions which followed. He was now anxious only to divert Arthur's mind from dwelling upon the aspersions on his father's memory, which Incledon rightly conceived to come from the lad's own relations. With this idea, therefore, the worthy man turned the conversation upon the many perfections of his late departed friend ; dwelling on those virtues especially which friends and foes alike agree in acknowledg ing, extolling above all his many claims to public veneration and esteem.

" If e'er you go abroad, young sir," proceeded Mr. Incledon, dividing his attentions between the youth and Phœbe, whom he had summoned to remove the cloth, " and chance to be travelling in the northern provinces of Spain, you must not omit to visit the Cathedral of Burgos, in which you will find — (that pasty, Phœbe, you may cover up, and bring in for my supper) — a noble memorial of your father's art, and—" "Indeed, sir!" interrupted Arthur, in amazement. " Faith, when I'm a man I shall not rest until I have seen it. Prythee, what is't, sir — what is't ?" " 'Tis a crucifix, an I mind me truly, a goodly piece, all pierced with gems and crystals, and wrought in wondrous fine work of gold and ivory. The metal alone, methinks, thy father will have wrought ; but, by George, in those days 'twas esteemed a pretty piece of skill, and worthy the gift of one prince to another !"

" And did my father make this for our King ?" cried Lyndwode, proudly. " Aye, that he did, lad ! 'Twas in '23, the year ofthe Spanish adventures, then so much talked of. Our Prince Charles went a-wooing the Infanta, and must needs make some handsome offering to the famous shrine at Burgos ; whereon he commissioned thy father to set to work on this marvel, that he might thus propitiate the fair Donna's favour." "Sooth, but it all fell through," exclaimed Ar thur, impatiently ; " the Spanish match, I mean. Yet I doubt me an I should have liked that Queen as well as ours ! Methought this morning she seemed a comely lady, though something pale and frighted like, at the cross-eared cattle gaping at her." " Well, and this," continued the vintner, when Lynd wode had recovered his good breeding, and restrained himself from further conjecturings and complimentary allusions, "chiefly brought thy father into bad odour with the people.

The Puritans had it he was an intri guing Papist, in league with the Spaniards, and would have brought about the perversion and conquest of this country. His own brethren declared the crucifix was a bribe, and that the Prince had bought him over to silence and infamous assentment. Even the Court party deserted him, and old King Jamie went storming about the Palace, and swore an Baby Charles had but consulted him, or given Heriot the job, there would have been nothing to say. However, the Prince, thou seest, went incognito, and would not have it known, as it would like to have been an Heriot had had the order." " But I am glad my father had it, although it did get him into disgrace at Court !" cried Arthur, eagerly. " And I'll warrant, despite men's evil tongues, the fame that crucifix brought him will outlive the asper sion on his loyalty."

" Egad, it will," agreed Incledon. " Meanwhile, the King looked only coldly on him after that, and as thy father was ever a quiet-contained and much enduring man, people said he had taken to the opposite party, and gradually his custom fell away ; his spirit broke, and he never recovered from the neglect and suspicion cast upon him. Poor Simon ! he died before his time ! and though many thought when Prince Charles came to the throne, he would restore him to his old place, yet princes are forgetful, and even friends, as I have cause to regret." " That was not your fault !" Lyndwode hastened to reply ; and then, as though by mutual desire, the subject was not reverted to again. . . . Suddenly Arthur, who had been absently looking out of the window, exclaimed, "'Tis growing dusk! Surely 'tis not so late, sir ?"