XVIII
Of Jack’s Letters from the Seat of War
Now, as good fortune would have it, Parson Drumbleforth happened to be in our house at the very moment of the arrival of Jack’s letter, and knowing that the latter would not fail to send news to his father, I asked the messenger if he had no communication for the Vicar of Darrington.
“Yea, troth have I,” he answered, touching his pouch significantly, “and here it is in my satchel. God send it be not out of my track, for me and my horse are tired enow, having ridden I know not how many miles this day, and being bound for the Castle at Pontefract with despatches for Colonel Lowther.”
“It is not out of your track, friend,” I said; “but here is the Vicar himself, and you can do your errand without further hindrance. And if your despatches are not too pressing, and if you will please to dismount, we will entertain both your horse and yourself with food and rest, which will do neither any harm, judging from your appearance.”
“You speak truly, master,” said the man, getting slowly down from his saddle as if he were stiff with long riding. “You speak truly indeed. Beshrew me if I have drawn rein since I passed Conisbrough Castle, as you may believe by looking at my beast. As for the despatches, I care not about immediate deliverance of them, so long as they fall not into the enemy’s hands.”
“We are for the King here,” I said, and led him into the kitchen, whither he followed me with great readiness, “and your despatches will be safe enough, for there has been no fighting in this quarter as yet, whatever there may be to come.”
“You are well off,” said he, sinking down like a tired man upon the long settle. “By the great Turk! but we had a fair brush of it at Edgehill yonder. A plague take this war, say I! If it were with one’s natural enemies, Spaniard or Turk, well and good, but as it is—”
“Then Master Drumbleforth has been at Edgehill?” I said. “Is he well, and is Master Lisle with him?”
“They are both thereabouts,” he answered, “or maybe at this present they are on the road towards London, for his Majesty is minded to spend Christmas at Whitehall, and is pushing on thither.”
“Then the King hath won the fight at Edgehill?”
“Why that, master, is more than I can say. Myself, I should say ’twas a drawn game. However, Essex and his men have retreated southwards, and the royal forces are after them.”
By that time the maids had brought food and drink, and placed them before the messenger; so bidding him refresh himself and spare not, I carried the letters into my mother’s parlour, where she and Parson Drumbleforth and the two girls were seated conversing in the firelight. For it was now growing dark and cold o’ nights, and we were always glad to get the curtain drawn and the candles lighted, so that we might hear the wind and rain outside, and feel comfortable that we were safely housed.
“News from the wars!” I cried, holding up the two letters. “A messenger carrying despatches for Colonel Lowther hath brought them with him. Here is one for you, sir, from Jack, and another for me. Mistress Rose, there is naught from your father, but he is well, so the messenger says, and maybe he has enclosed somewhat in Jack’s letter.”
So I whipped out my knife, and cut away the cover, but there was no letter for Rose lying therein.
“He hath been too busy to write,” she said, smiling, “but he will have sent some message by Master Drumbleforth’s letter. So long as he is well I care not.”
Now, the Vicar had eagerly opened his own epistle, and was peering at it through his glasses, while my mother and Lucy stood eagerly by to hear the news.
“Are they well, sir?” inquired my mother. “Pray God they both be in good health, so far away from home and friends as they are. ’Tis poor work to be sick in a strange country.”
“Why,” said Parson Drumbleforth, “they seem to be well enough, mistress, judging from the manner in which my son writes to me. Nevertheless, his epistle is a somewhat short one, and dealeth in little news. But if ye will give ear I will read it to you, so that we may all share in it.”
So when he had cleared his voice, he read as follows:
“To the Rev. Mr. Drumbleforth, M.A., Vicar of Darrington in the County of Yorkshire. These:
“Honoured Father—There being a messenger about to carry despatches from our camp here unto Colonel Lowther at Pontefract Castle, I am minded to write these to your Reverence, in the hope that they may find you in as good health as I now enjoy, for which I thank God heartily. I would have you know that there hath been a great fight here at Edgehill, in which both Master Lisle and myself figured without hurt to ourselves, save that Master Lisle hath gotten a cut across the fingers of his right hand which doth prevent him at present from holding a pen. For this reason I am about writing a long letter to Will Dale, so that he may give news to Mistress Rose, and as I am no hand at much writing of epistles, I will beg you, honoured sir, to step along the highway to Dale’s Field and learn the news there. Only I will here tell you that I am now in very good health, and have as yet come in no great need of anything, though, indeed, my shirts are becoming ragged, and my half-hose are well-nigh worn through. Yea, indeed, you might say to Mistress Deborah that if she hath any linen or other body-clothes of mine stored away, she would do well to pack it up, and send it to me by the bearer of this, who will return hither shortly. For I wish not to be reduced to the condition of some who, having but one shirt, are forced to go without while what they have is washed—”
“Poor things, poor things!” said my mother. “Alas! the war is a terrible matter. What would their mothers say if they could see them in such a plight?”
“I will resume,” said the Vicar.
“As to food, honoured sir, we have so far done fairly well, and I have grown no thinner. Likewise the life so far hath suited my mind very well, though I know not how it may be when the winter sets in. However, we have beaten back the enemy, and are now following him towards London, where the King means to spend Christmas. And so, sir, assuring you that I am well in body and mind, and do strive to fulfil all my duties as a Christian man, I will refer you to Will Dale for further news. Only I will beg you to believe that I am your very dutiful and loving son,
“ ’Tis a very right and proper letter,” said the Vicar, folding up the sheet with much pride, “and doth the lad great credit. I am rejoiced to think that in the midst of battles and conflicts he doeth his duty as a Christian man should. Yea, indeed, this letter hath much refreshed me. But now, William, let us have thy news, which I doubt not will contain a deal of war and bloodshed, and suchlike. Open thy paper, man, and read.”
“Why, sir,” said I, “there are the people without who have heard that news has come, and they are anxious to hear it. What do you say, mother, if we allow them to come inside here and listen to Jack’s letter being read?”
“ ’Tis a good thought,” said Parson Drumbleforth. “Yea, mistress, let us have them all inside.”
So my mother called them all to come, and presently they appeared—Jacob Trusty, and the maids, and Timothy Grass, and the ploughboys—and stood in a group at the door, ready to listen. Only the messenger stayed by himself in the kitchen, eating and drinking at his ease, with the firelight shining on his rough and weather-beaten countenance.
“Friends,” said I, when they had all assembled, “here is a letter which hath come from the wars, from Mr. John Drumbleforth. We thought you would like to hear what news he sends, so you shall hear it read.”
“Ay,” said Parson Drumbleforth. “Read on, Will.”
But I did not think of reading it myself, Jack’s writing being somewhat clerkly, and not like print. So I handed it over to Rose.
“Mistress Rose,” I said, “you are a greater scholar than I, and have a clear voice. Will you read us Jack’s letter?”
So she consented, standing up by the light, and looking mighty pretty as she stood there. And this is what she read to us:
“To Mr. William Dale, at his farm of Dale’s Field along the Great North Road, near Pontefract, in Yorkshire. These:
“Dear Will—There has been a great battle fought at Edgehill here, and Master Lisle has had a cut across the fingers of his right hand, so that he is unable to write to Mistress Rose himself. However, you will tell her that he is quite well and in good health otherwise, and sendeth his dearest love and blessing to her, hoping that she too is well and that he may see her again erelong. Likewise that he will write unto her with his own hand so soon as he can use it once more, which will not be long, the wound being but insignificant—”
“Thank the Lord for that!” said Jacob Trusty. “For the fingers are but tender things when all is said and done.”
“We came on here, Will, from joining the King’s forces near Nottingham, and we have had one other brush with the enemy before this fight at Edgehill, namely, at Powick Bridge, where we did vanquish the Parliamentarians with very great ease. This affair at Edgehill, however, was a matter of different complexion, and showed me what war is really like when it comes to it. For here was Essex with a considerable force of men, and some of them exceedingly well trained and officered, so that we knew there was some stiff and bloody work before us ere ever we drew sword. And now that it is over I cannot say that we have gained any decided advantage, for though the Parliamentarians are retreating before us, it is very slowly, and seems to savour more of caution than fear. However, the advantage, if any there be, is with us, for which we are thankful.
“I wish, Will, that you could have been side by side with me in this fight, for it was indeed hot work, and gave me many new feelings. I cannot describe to you how the bullets whistled past our ears, or how the cannon thundered, nor how the charges of cavalry shook the ground. Neither have I clerkship enough to tell you how it looked when dead and dying men strewed the ground in all directions. As for myself, there was at first a strange sensation came over me, but then I got hot and earnest, and thought of nothing but winning the day. I wish, too, that you had seen the charge of Prince Rupert and his cavalry, which swept the Parliamentarians away like chaff before the wind, for it was the finest sight ever I saw. Nevertheless, Will, many old campaigners do seem to think that this same Prince Rupert hath somewhat too much of haste about him for a great commander. Certain it is that he is headstrong and impetuous, and doeth everything as if he were a whirlwind rushing over the earth.
“We have heard considerable news of what is going on during these last few weeks, for there are couriers and messengers going and coming continually with tidings from all parts. We understand that there is hardly a town or village where they are not making preparations for war on one side or the other. As to how the land will be divided, they say that the nobility, gentry, and common people will be for the King, while the trading classes and the yeomen of the south and west are for the Parliament. But the common people of London are not for the King, for we have heard that no less than four thousand of them enlisted on the Parliamentary side in one day. Hampden has been down in Buckinghamshire and has there raised a band of two thousand men, whom he hath dressed in green coats, so that they make a brave show. We hear, too, that one Cromwell, a member of Parliament, is raising a band of men in the fen country, and is disciplining them in rare fashion, having boasted that with a thousand men of his own stamp he will put the King’s forces to confusion. And certain it is, Will, that some of these Parliamentarians are terribly in earnest over this matter, and are willing to back up their arguments by hard knocks.
“The King hath gotten himself a good army together, and at present his friends seem assured of victory, yet his Majesty hath not a happy look on his countenance, which is always sad and thoughtful. I hear that the Queen hath gone abroad to raise money for the war, and hath taken with her the Crown jewels and ornaments wherewith to further that object. How our army will fare about supplies I know not at present, but up to this time we have had no cause of complaint, and so long as we continue to be successful I think the men will live in good spirits. Moreover, we hope shortly to be in London, but there will be some sharp brushes ere we get there, for the trained bands will certainly oppose our progress, and they are commanded by General Skippon, who, I understand, hath had long experience in the German wars. Doubt not, however, that we shall give a good account of ourselves, for we are not lightly to be put down by these Roundhead knaves. Yet, indeed, Will, this war is a terrible matter, for there are families divided against each other, and it is easily done for father to kill son or son to kill father—”
“Alas!” said my mother; “he is right—a terrible matter it is indeed; would it were well over!”
“And now I have no more news for thee at present, old Will, save that Master Lisle is commander of a company of volunteers, and I am one of his men and likely to be promoted, being, so they say, of good stuff for a soldier. So when I come homewards again I may perhaps come as captain or colonel. Glad indeed I shall be to see ye all again, for in all my wanderings thus far I have seen naught that I liked so well as our own village, with its gray church tower and comfortable alehouse, nor have I met any face that I welcomed as I would welcome one of our own home faces. So thou wilt remember me to everybody—to thy mother and sister and to Mistress Rose and to Jacob; and thou wilt tell Jacob that I have remembered his many admonitions and found them useful; and thou mayest tell Timothy that the horses in these parts are not like ours, and beg thy mother to make the autumn ale extra strong this year, for indeed I am looking forward to it. And now I will say farewell to all of you until another time, when thou shalt hear more, God willing, from thy old friend,
So the letter was read, and we were all glad to hear that our two adventurers were so far well and prosperous. And the servants having gone out, much pleased with what they had heard, I followed them to speed forward the messenger with his despatches for Colonel Lowther, bidding him call upon us the next day as he returned southwards, so that we might give him letters for our friends. And after he had gone we sat down with pens and papers and wrote news to them, assuring them of our joy that so far they had been spared amidst all their dangers.