An Island Story, H. E. Marshall [learn to read books txt] 📗
- Author: H. E. Marshall
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He cut off his beautiful hair, stained his face and his white hands brown, and instead of silk and satin, he put on coarse clothes which were much patched and darned, so that he looked like a laboring man. Then with an ax over his shoulder, he went into the woods with four brothers, who really were working men, and pretended to cut wood.
All day long they stayed in the wood, and at night the four brothers guided the Prince to another place. There they found so many of Cromwell’s men that it was not safe for Charles to stay in a house. That night he slept in a hay-loft. Next day, finding that even there he was not safe, he climbed into an oak-tree, and lay among the branches. As it was September, the leaves were very thick and hid him well.
Charles lay very still and quiet. His heart thumped against his ribs, and he held his breath when some of Cromwell’s soldiers rode under the tree. They were so close that he could hear them talk.
“The Lord hath given the ungodly one into our hands,” said one.
“Yea, he cannot be afar off.”
“We will use well our eyes. Perchance the Lord may deliver the malignant even unto us.”
But the kind green leaves kept close, and little did the Roundheads think that the very man for whom they were looking was close above their heads and could hear every word they said.
For a whole long day Charles lay in the oak, and at last Cromwell’s men, having searched and searched in vain for him, went away. Then Charles climbed down from the tree and walked many weary miles till his feet were blistered and sore, and his bones ached.
At length he reached the house of a Royalist lady and gentleman, who were kind to him.
The lady pretended that she had to go on a journey to visit a sick friend. Charles was dressed as her servant and mounted upon a horse, and the lady got up behind him. In those days, before there were trains or even coaches, ladies very often traveled like this. They did not ride upon a horse by themselves, but mounted behind a servant or a friend.
For many miles Charles traveled as this lady’s servant, having many adventures and escapes by the way. As Charles was supposed to be the servant, he had, of course, to look after the horse. One evening, as he went into the stable-yard of the inn in which they were to spend the night, he found it full of Cromwell’s men. One of them looked hard at the Prince.
“My friend,” he said, “I seem to know your face.”
“Like enough,” replied Charles, “I have traveled a good deal with my masters.”
“Surely,” said the man, “you were with Mr. Baxter?”
“Yes,” replied the Prince calmly, “I was with him. But now make way, my man, till I see after my beast. I will talk to you later.”
So Charles busied himself with his horse, and escaped from the man who took him to be a fellow-servant.
After many dangers, often being recognized in spite of his disguises, the Prince arrived at Lyme Regis, and there a little boat was found to take him over to France. But when the captain’s wife heard who was going to sail in her husband’s boat, she was afraid. She was afraid that Cromwell might hear of it, and perhaps kill her husband. So she told him he must not go.
“I must go,” said the captain, “I have promised.”
“You shall not go,” said his wife, and, seeing that talking did no good, she locked him into a room and took the key away.
Charles and his friends waited in vain for the captain, and at last they left Lyme Regis in despair. After more adventures they reached Brighton, and there they really did find a boat and a captain willing to take them over to France.
The evening before starting, Charles was having supper at a little inn in Brighton, when the landlord came behind him and kissed his hand. Again he had been recognized. But the landlord was faithful, and would not betray him.
“God bless your Majesty,” he said, “perhaps I may live to be a lord, and my good wife a lady.” He thought that if Charles ever came back to the throne he would not forget those who had helped and served him when he was poor and in trouble.
For more than six weeks Charles had traveled in fear and danger among his bitter enemies. In spite of his disguises, many people had recognized him. Yet not one had betrayed him. Instead, they had taken a great deal of trouble and run many risks to help and save him, and now his difficulties and dangers were over.
Very early next morning, while it was still almost dark, the little party crept down to the shore. In the gray dawn Charles stepped on board the boat, the sails were set, and slowly he was carried away from his kingdom which he was not to see again for many long days.
THE British had hardly done fighting at home, when they had to fight with enemies abroad. They went to war with the Dutch, who at this time had a very famous admiral called Van Tromp. The English, too, had a famous admiral called Blake.
The Dutch and the British had several reasons for quarreling. Each tried to spoil the trade of the other, and the Dutch would not acknowledge the new British Government. This made the Parliament very angry.
Several fierce battles were fought at sea, and when the Dutch won, Van Tromp hoisted a broom to his masthead, as a sign that he intended to sweep the British ships from the seas. Blake and the English were very angry at this. They built and manned more ships as fast as they could, and once more sailed out to fight the Dutch. When the two fleets met, the fiercest, longest battle of this sea war took place. For three days they fought, but in the end Blake was victorious and, bravely though he had fought, Van Tromp was obliged to lower his proud broom and sweep the remainder of his own fleet homeward.
It was now about four years since King Charles had been beheaded.
Cromwell was the strongest man in the country, yet no real ruler had been appointed, and the Rump Parliament was acting neither wisely nor well. Cromwell made up his mind to put an end to this.
So one day he marched to Parliament at the head of about three hundred of his soldiers. He himself went into the House, leaving some of his soldiers at the door, some in the lobby, and some on the stairs. He sat down in his usual place, and listened for some time to the talking. Then suddenly he rose up and began to speak.
He told the Parliament that the things which they did were unjust, that they were tyrants and worse. “But your hour hath come,” he cried, “the Lord hath done with you,” and putting on his hat, he stamped with his foot, and his soldiers rushed in.
“I will put an end to your babbling,” he shouted, and at a signal from their master, the soldiers drove the members out of the hall, Cromwell calling out insulting names at them as they passed.
The Speaker refused to leave the chair, and tried to address the members, but in the noise and confusion he could not make himself heard. Then one of Cromwell’s friends took him by the arm and forced him to go. In a few minutes the hall was cleared of every one except Cromwell’s soldiers and followers.
On the table lay the mace. The mace is the sign of the dignity and the lawfulness of Parliament. It is carried before the Speaker as he enters and leaves the House, and lies on the table while the members talk together. It is a sign of law and order, just as the scepter is the sign of royalty and rule. Cromwell did not like any form or ceremony. He thought it was foolish and wicked.
“Take away that bauble,” he said angrily, pointing to the mace. So it was removed. Cromwell’s friends then left the House, he himself coming last and locking the doors after him. This was the end of the Long Parliament. It had lasted for thirteen years.
Cromwell and his friends now set to work to form a new Parliament, and one more to their liking than the last had been. Instead of allowing the people to choose the members, Cromwell himself chose them. But this Parliament did not please him much better than the last, and in less than five months it was again dissolved.
Cromwell was now asked to become ruler. Some of his friends wished him to take the title of king, but he refused, chiefly because he knew that his greatest friends were the soldiers, and they hated the name of king. If he took that name he was sure that they would turn against him and become his worst enemies. So he became ruler under the title of Lord Protector.
Cromwell was not crowned and anointed as kings were. But there was a very solemn service held, when a beautiful purple robe was placed upon his shoulders, the sword of office buckled to his side, and the scepter put into his hand. He was truly king in everything but name.
Cromwell was not only a king, but a very stern and autocratic one. He wanted his own way quite as much as the Stuarts had done, only he really thought of the good of the country, and the Stuarts thought only of themselves.
The troubles of the civil war now began to pass away, and under the stern rule of the Lord Protector, Britain began once more to be peaceful and prosperous at home, and famous abroad.
All the Protestants of Europe looked to Cromwell for help and protection, and so powerful was his name that he could always give help. Kings bowed and obeyed when Cromwell commanded, and Britain was famous as she had not been since the days of Elizabeth. Her soldiers were the best in the world. Her admirals won for her the name of mistress of the seas, a name which she has kept ever since.
Yet the man who had won this great place for Britain lived in terror of his life. He was a tyrant, and like all tyrants he was bitterly hated, and he knew it. Under his clothes he wore armor, he always carried weapons, and wherever he went, he was followed and surrounded by a strong bodyguard. No one ever knew where he would sleep, for he moved about from room to room in his great palace lest some one should attack him while he rested.
At last, worn out in body and brain, the great Lord Protector died on 3rd September 1658 A.D. It was his lucky day.
“He first put arms into Religion’s hand,
And tim’rous conscience unto courage mann’d;
The soldier taught that inward mail to wear,
And fearing God, how they should nothing fear;
Those strokes, he said, will pierce through all below,
Where those that strike from Heav’n fetch their blow.
Astonished armies did their flight prepare,
And cities strong were storm�d by his prayer;
In all his wars needs must he triumph, when
He conquered God still ere he fought with men.”
CHARLES II.—HOW THE KING CAME TO HIS OWN, AND HOW DEATH WALKED IN THE STREETS OF LONDON
OLIVER CROMWELL had been so strong and powerful
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