The clergyman conferred for a few moments with a grizzly-bearded, harsh-faced man dressed in black buckram who stood at his elbow.

'If you are really Micah Clarke of Havant,' quoth he, 'you will be able to tell us the name of an old soldier, skilled in the German wars, who was to have come with ye to the camp of the faithful.'

'Why, this is he,' I answered; 'Decimus Saxon is his name.'

'Aye, aye, Master Pettigrue,' cried the old man. 'The very name given by d.i.c.ky Rumbold. He said that either the old Roundhead Clarke or his son would go with him. But who are these?'

'This is Master Reuben Lockarby, also of Havant, and Sir Gervas Jerome of Surrey,' I replied. 'They are both here as volunteers desiring to serve under the Duke of Monmouth.'

'Right glad I am to see ye, then,' said the stalwart minister heartily. 'Friends, I can answer for these gentlemen that they favour the honest folk and the old cause.'

At these words the rage of the mob turned in an instant into the most extravagant adulation and delight. They crowded round us, patting our riding-boots, pulling at the skirts of our dress, pressing our hands and calling down blessings upon our heads, until their pastor succeeded at last in rescuing us from their attentions and in persuading them to resume their journey. We walked our horses in the midst of them whilst the clergyman strode along betwixt Saxon and myself. He was, as Reuben remarked, well fitted to be an intermediary between us, for he was taller though not so broad as I was, and broader though not so tall as the adventurer. His face was long, thin, and hollow-cheeked, with a pair of great thatched eyebrows and deep sunken melancholy eyes, which lit up upon occasion with a sudden quick flash of fiery enthusiasm.

'Joshua Pettigrue is my name, gentlemen,' said he; 'I am an unworthy worker in the Lord's vineyard, testifying with voice and with arm to His holy covenant. These are my faithful flock, whom I am bringing westward that they may be ready for the reaping when it pleases the Almighty to gather them in.'

'And why have you not brought them into some show of order or formation?' asked Saxon. 'They are straggling along the road like a line of geese upon a common when Michaelmas is nigh. Have you no fears? Is it not written that your calamity cometh suddenly-suddenly shall you be broken down without remedy?'

'Aye, friend, but is it not also written, "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding!" Mark ye, if I were to draw up my men in military fashion it would invite attention and attack from any of James Stuart's horse who may come our way. It is my desire to bring my flock to the camp and obtain pieces for them before exposing them to so unequal a contest.'

'Truly, sir, it is a wise resolution,' said Saxon grimly, 'for if a troop of horse came down upon these good people the pastor would find himself without his flock.'

'Nay, that could never be!' cried Master Pettigrue with fervour. 'Say rather that pastor, flock, and all would find their way along the th.o.r.n.y track of martyrdom to the new Jerusalem. Know, friend, that I have come from Monmouth in order to conduct these men to his standard. I received from him, or rather from Master Ferguson, instructions to be on the lookout for ye and for several others of the faithful we expect to join us from the East. By what route came ye?'

'Over Salisbury Plain and so through Bruton.'

'And saw ye or met ye any of our people upon the way?'

'None,' Saxon answered. 'We left the Blue Guards at Salisbury, however, and we saw either them or some other horse regiment near this side of the Plain at the village of Mere.'

'Ah, there is a gathering of the eagles,' cried Master Joshua Pettigrue, shaking his head. 'They are men of fine raiment, with war-horses and chariots and trappings, like the a.s.syrians of old, yet shall the angel of the Lord breathe upon them in the night. Yea, He shall cut them off utterly in His wrath, and they shall be destroyed.'

'Amen! Amen!' cried as many of the peasants as were within earshot.

'They have elevated their horn, Master Pettigrue,' said the grizzly-haired Puritan. 'They have set up their candlestick on high-the candlestick of a perverse ritual and of an idolatrous service. Shall it not be dashed down by the hands of the righteous?'

'Lo, this same candle waxed big and burned sooty, even as an offence to the nostrils, in the days of our fathers,' cried a burly red-faced man, whose dress proclaimed him to be one of the yeoman cla.s.s. 'So was it when Old Noll did get his snuffing shears to work upon it. It is a wick which can only be trimmed by the sword of the faithful.' A grim laugh from the whole party proclaimed their appreciation of the pious waggery of their companion.

'Ah, Brother Sandcroft,' cried the pastor, 'there is much sweetness and manna hidden in thy conversation. But the way is long and dreary. Shall we not lighten it by a song of praise? Where is Brother Thistlethwaite, whose voice is as the cymbal, the tabor, and the dulcimer?'

'Lo, most pious Master Pettigrue,' said Saxon, 'I have myself at times ventured to lift up my voice before the Lord.' Without any further apology he broke out in stentorian tones into the following hymn, the refrain of which was caught up by pastor and congregation.

The Lord He is a morion That guards me from all wound; The Lord He is a coat of mail That circles me all round.

Who then fears to draw the sword, And fight the battle of the Lord?

The Lord He is the buckler true That swings on my left arm; The Lord He is the plate of proof That shieldeth me from harm.

Who then fears to draw the sword, And fight the battle of the Lord?

Who then dreads the violent, Or fears the man of pride?

Or shall I flee from two or three If He be by my side?

Who then fears to draw the sword, And fight the battle of the Lord!

My faith is like a citadel Girt round with moat and wall, No mine, or sap, or breach, or gap Can ere prevail at all.

Who then fears to draw the sword, And fight the battle of the Lord?

Saxon ceased, but the Reverend Joshua Pettigrue waved his long arms and repeated the refrain, which was taken up again and again by the long column of marching peasants.

'It is a G.o.dly hymn,' said our companion, who had, to my disgust and to the evident astonishment of Reuben and Sir Gervas, resumed the snuffling, whining voice which he had used in the presence of my father. 'It hath availed much on the field of battle.'

'Truly,' returned the clergyman, 'if your comrades are of as sweet a savour as yourself, ye will be worth a brigade of pikes to the faithful,' a sentiment which raised a murmur of a.s.sent from the Puritans around. 'Since, sir,' he continued, 'you have had much experience in the wiles of war, I shall be glad to hand over to you the command of this small body of the faithful, until such time as we reach the army.'

'It is time, too, in good faith, that ye had a soldier at your head,' Decimus Saxon answered quietly. 'My eyes deceive me strangely if I do not see the gleam of sword and cuira.s.s upon the brow of yonder declivity. Methinks our pious exercises have brought the enemy upon us.'

Chapter XV. Of our Brush with the King's Dragoons

Some little distance from us a branch road ran into that along which we and our motley a.s.semblage of companions-in-arms were travelling. This road curved down the side of a well-wooded hill, and then over the level for a quarter of a mile or so before opening on the other. Just at the brow of the rising ground there stood a thick bristle of trees, amid the trunks of which there came and went a bright shimmer of sparkling steel, which proclaimed the presence of armed men. Farther back, where the road took a sudden turn and ran along the ridge of the hill, several hors.e.m.e.n could be plainly seen outlined against the evening sky. So peaceful, however, was the long sweep of countryside, mellowed by the golden light of the setting sun, with a score of village steeples and manor-houses peeping out from amongst the woods, that it was hard to think that the thundercloud of war was really lowering over that fair valley, and that at any instant the lightning might break from it.

The country folk, however, appeared to have no difficulty at all in understanding the danger to which they were exposed. The fugitives from the West gave a yell of consternation, and ran wildly down the road or whipped up their beasts of burden in the endeavour to place as safe a distance as possible between themselves and the threatened attack. The chorus of shrill cries and shouts, with the cracking of whips, creaking of wheels, and the occasional crash when some cart load of goods came to grief, made up a most deafening uproar, above which our leader's voice resounded in sharp, eager exhortation and command. When, however, the loud brazen shriek from a bugle broke from the wood, and the head of a troop of horse began to descend the slope, the panic became greater still, and it was difficult for us to preserve any order at all amidst the wild rush of the terrified fugitives.

'Stop that cart, Clarke,' cried Saxon vehemently, pointing with his sword to an old waggon, piled high with furniture and bedding, which was lumbering along drawn by two raw-boned colts. At the same moment I saw him drive his horse into the crowd and catch at the reins of another similar one.

Giving Covenant's bridle a shake I was soon abreast of the cart which he had indicated, and managed to bring the furious young horses to a stand-still.

'Bring it up!' cried our leader, working with the coolness which only a long apprenticeship to war can give. 'Now, friends, cut the traces!' A dozen knives were at work in a moment, and the kicking, struggling animals scampered off, leaving their burdens behind them. Saxon sprang off his horse and set the example in dragging the waggon across the roadway, while some of the peasants, under the direction of Reuben Lockarby and of Master Joshua Pettigrue, arranged a couple of other carts to block the way fifty yards further down. The latter precaution was to guard against the chance of the royal horse riding through the fields and attacking us from behind. So speedily was the scheme conceived and carried out, that within a very few minutes of the first alarm we found ourselves protected front and rear by a lofty barricade, while within this improvised fortress was a garrison of a hundred and fifty men.

'What firearms have we amongst us?' asked Saxon hurriedly.

'A dozen pistols at the most,' replied the elderly Puritan, who was addressed by his companions as Hope-above Williams. 'John Rodway, the coachman, hath his blunderbuss. There are also two G.o.dly men from Hungerford, who are keepers of game, and who have brought their pieces with them.'

'They are here, sir,' cried another, pointing to two stout, bearded fellows, who were ramming charges into their long-barrelled muskets. 'Their names are Wat and Nat Millman.'

'Two who can hit their mark are worth a battalion who shoot wide,' our leader remarked, 'Get under the waggon, my friends, and rest your pieces upon the spokes. Never draw trigger until the sons of Belial are within three pikes' length of ye.'

'My brother and I,' quoth one of them, 'can hit a running doe at two hundred paces. Our lives are in the hands of the Lord, but two, at least, of these hired butchers we shall send before us.'

'As gladly as ever we slew stoat or wild-cat,' cried the other, slipping under the waggon. 'We are keeping the Lord's preserves now, brother Wat, and truly these are some of the vermin that infest them.'

'Let all who have pistols line the waggon,' said Saxon, tying his mare to the hedge-an example which we all followed. 'Clarke, do you take charge upon the right with Sir Gervas, while Lockarby a.s.sists Master Pettigrue upon the left. Ye others shall stand behind with stones. Should they break through our barricades, slash at the horses with your scythes. Once down, the riders are no match for ye.'

A low sullen murmur of determined resolution rose from the peasants, mingled with pious e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns and little sc.r.a.ps of hymn or of prayer. They had all produced from under their smocks rustic weapons of some sort. Ten or twelve had petronels, which, from their antique look and rusty condition, threatened to be more dangerous to their possessors than to the enemy. Others had sickles, scythe-blades, flails, half-pikes, or hammers, while the remainder carried long knives and oaken clubs. Simple as were these weapons, history has proved that in the hands of men who are deeply stirred by religious fanaticism they are by no means to be despised. One had but to look at the stern, set faces of our followers, and the gleam of exultation and expectancy which shone from their eyes, to see that they were not the men to quail, either from superior numbers or equipment.

'By the Ma.s.s!' whispered Sir Gervas, 'it is magnificent! An hour of this is worth a year in the Mall. The old Puritan bull is fairly at bay. Let us see what sort of sport the bull-pups make in the baiting of him! I'll lay five pieces to four on the chaw-bacons!'

'Nay, it's no matter for idle betting,' said I shortly, for his light-hearted chatter annoyed me at so solemn a moment.

'Five to four on the soldiers, then!' he persisted. 'It is too good a match not to have a stake on it one way or the other.'

'Our lives are the stake,' said I.

'Faith, I had forgot it!' he replied, still mumbling his toothpick. '"To be or not to be?" as Will of Stratford says. Kynaston was great on the pa.s.sage. But here is the bell that rings the curtain up.'

Whilst we had been making our dispositions the troop of horse-for there appeared to be but one-had trotted down the cross-road, and had drawn up across the main highway. They numbered, as far as I could judge, about ninety troopers, and it was evident from their three-cornered hats, steel plates, red sleeves, and bandoliers, that they were dragoons of the regular army. The main body halted a quarter of a mile from us, while three officers rode to the front and held a short consultation, which ended in one of them setting spurs to his horse and cantering down in our direction. A bugler followed a few paces behind him, waving a white kerchief and blowing an occasional blast upon his trumpet.

'Here comes an envoy,' cried Saxon, who was standing up in the waggon. 'Now, my brethren, we have neither kettle-drum nor tinkling bra.s.s, but we have the instrument wherewith Providence hath endowed us. Let us show the redcoats that we know how to use it.

"Who then dreads the violent, Or fears the man of pride?

Or shall I flee from two or three If He be by my side?"'

Seven score voices broke in, in a hoa.r.s.e roar, upon the chorus- 'Who then fears to draw the sword, And fight the battle of the Lord?'

I could well believe at that moment that the Spartans had found the lame singer Tyrtaeus the most successful of their generals, for the sound of their own voices increased the confidence of the country folk, while the martial words of the old hymn roused the dogged spirit in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. So high did their courage run that they broke off their song with a loud warlike shout, waving their weapons above their heads, and ready I verily believe to march out from their barricades and make straight for the hors.e.m.e.n. In the midst of this clamour and turmoil the young dragoon officer, a handsome, olive-faced lad, rode fearlessly up to the barrier, and pulling up his beautiful roan steed, held up his hand with an imperious gesture which demanded silence.

'Who is the leader of this conventicle?' he asked.

'Address your message to me, sir,' said our leader from the top of the waggon, 'but understand that your white flag will only protect you whilst you use such language as may come from one courteous adversary to another. Say your say or retire.'

'Courtesy and honour,' said the officer, with a sneer, 'are not extended to rebels who are in arms against their lawful sovereign. If you are the leader of this rabble, I warn you if they are not dispersed within five minutes by this watch'-he pulled out an elegant gold time-piece-'we shall ride down upon them and cut them to pieces.'

'The Lord can protect His own,' Saxon answered, amid a fierce hum of approval from the crowd. 'Is this all thy message?'

'It is all, and you will find it enough, you Presbyterian traitor,' cried the dragoon cornet. 'Listen to me, misguided fools,' he continued, standing up upon his stirrups and speaking to the peasants at the other side of the waggon. 'What chance have ye with your whittles and cheese-sc.r.a.pers? Ye may yet save your skins if ye will but deliver up your leaders, throw down what ye are pleased to call your arms, and trust to the King's mercy.'

'This exceedeth the limitations of your privileges,' said Saxon, drawing a pistol from his belt and c.o.c.king it. 'If you say another word to seduce these people from their allegiance, I fire.'

'Hope not to benefit Monmouth,' cried the young officer, disregarding the threat, and still addressing his words to the peasants. 'The whole royal army is drawing round him and-'

'Have a care!' shouted our leader, in a deep harsh voice.

'His head within a month shall roll upon the scaffold.'

'But you shall never live to see it,' said Saxon, and stooping over he fired straight at the cornet's head. At the flash of the pistol the trumpeter wheeled round and galloped for his life, while the roan horse turned and followed with its master still seated firmly in the saddle.

'Verily you have missed the Midianite!' cried Hope-above Williams.

'He is dead,' said our leader, pouring a fresh charge into his pistol. 'It is the law of war, Clarke,' he added, looking round at me. 'He hath chosen to break it, and must pay forfeit.'

As he spoke I saw the young officer lean gradually over in his saddle, until, when about half-way back to his friends, he lost his balance and fell heavily in the roadway, turning over two or three times with the force of his fall, and lying at last still and motionless, a dust-coloured heap. A loud yell of rage broke from the troopers at the sight, which was answered by a shout of defiance from the Puritan peasantry.

'Down on your faces!' cried Saxon; 'they are about to fire.'

The crackle of musketry and a storm of bullets, pinging on the hard ground, or cutting twigs from the hedges on either side of us, lent emphasis to our leader's order. Many of the peasants crouched behind the feather beds and tables which had been pulled out of the cart. Some lay in the waggon itself, and some sheltered themselves behind or underneath it. Others again lined the ditches on either side or lay flat upon the roadway, while a few showed their belief in the workings of Providence by standing upright without flinching from the bullets. Amongst these latter were Saxon and Sir Gervas, the former to set an example to his raw troops, and the latter out of pure laziness and indifference. Reuben and I sat together in the ditch, and I can a.s.sure you, my dear grandchildren, that we felt very much inclined to bob our heads when we heard the bullets piping all around them. If any soldier ever told you that he did not the first time that he was under fire, then that soldier is not a man to trust. After sitting rigid and silent, however, as if we had both stiff necks, for a very few minutes, the feeling pa.s.sed completely away, and from that day to this it has never returned to me. You see familiarity breeds contempt with bullets as with other things, and though it is no easy matter to come to like them, like the King of Sweden or my Lord Cutts, it is not so very hard to become indifferent to them.

The cornet's death did not remain long unavenged. A little old man with a sickle, who had been standing near Sir Gervas, gave a sudden sharp cry, and springing up into the air with a loud 'Glory to G.o.d!' fell flat upon his face dead. A bullet had struck him just over the right eye. Almost at the same moment one of the peasants in the waggon was shot through the chest, and sat up coughing blood all over the wheel. I saw Master Joshua Pettigrue catch him in his long arms, and settle some bedding under his head, so that he lay breathing heavily and pattering forth prayers. The minister showed himself a man that day, for amid the fierce carbine fire he walked boldly up and down, with a drawn rapier in his left hand-for he was a left-handed man-and his Bible in the other. 'This is what you are dying for, dear brothers,' he cried continually, holding the brown volume up in the air; 'are ye not ready to die for this?' And every time he asked the question a low eager murmur of a.s.sent rose from the ditches, the waggon, and the road.

'They aim like yokels at a Wappenschaw,' said Saxon, seating himself on the side of the waggon. 'Like all young soldiers they fire too high. When I was an adjutant it was my custom to press down the barrels of the muskets until my eye told me that they were level. These rogues think that they have done their part if they do but let the gun off, though they are as like to hit the plovers above us as ourselves.'

'Five of the faithful have fallen,' said Hope-above Williams. 'Shall we not sally forth and do battle with the children of Antichrist? Are we to lie here like so many popinjays at a fair for the troopers to practise upon?'

'There is a stone barn over yonder on the hill-side,' I remarked. 'If we who have horses, and a few others, were to keep the dragoons in play, the people might be able to reach it, and so be sheltered from the fire.'

'At least let my brother and me have a shot or two back at them,' cried one of the marksmen beside the wheel.

To all our entreaties and suggestions, however, our leader only replied by a shake of the head, and continued to swing his long legs over the side of the waggon with his eyes fixed intently upon the hors.e.m.e.n, many of whom had dismounted and were leaning their carbines over the cruppers of their chargers.

'This cannot go on, sir,' said the pastor, in a low earnest voice; 'two more men have just been hit.'

'If fifty more men are hit we must wait until they charge,' Saxon answered. 'What would you do, man? If you leave this shelter you will be cut off and utterly destroyed. When you have seen as much of war as I have done, you will learn to put up quietly with what is not to be avoided. I remember on such another occasion when the rearguard or nachhut of the Imperial troops was followed by Croats, who were in the pay of the Grand Turk, I lost half my company before the mercenary renegades came to close fighting. Ha, my brave boys, they are mounting! We shall not have to wait long now.'

The dragoons were indeed climbing into their saddles again, and forming across the road, with the evident intention of charging down upon us. At the same time about thirty men detached themselves from the main body and trotted away into the fields upon our right. Saxon growled a hearty oath under his breath as he observed them.

'They have some knowledge of warfare after all,' said he. 'They mean to charge us flank and front. Master Joshua, see that your scythesmen line the quickset hedge upon the right. Stand well up, my brothers, and flinch not from the horses. You men with the sickles, lie in the ditch there, and cut at the legs of the brutes. A line of stone throwers behind that. A heavy stone is as sure as a bullet at close quarters. If ye would see your wives and children again, make that hedge good against the hors.e.m.e.n. Now for the front attack. Let the men who carry petronels come into the waggon. Two of yours, Clarke, and two of yours, Lockarby. I can spare one also. That makes five. Now here are ten others of a sort and three muskets. Twenty shots in all. Have you no pistols, Sir Gervas?

'No, but I can get a pair,' said our companion, and springing upon his horse he forced his way through the ditch, past the barrier, and so down the road in the direction of the dragoons.

The movement was so sudden and so unexpected that there was a dead silence for a few seconds, which was broken by a general howl of hatred and execration from the peasants. 'Shoot upon him! Shoot down the false Amalekite!' they shrieked. 'He hath gone to join his kind! He hath delivered us up into the hands of the enemy! Judas! Judas!' As to the hors.e.m.e.n, who were still forming up for a charge and waiting for the flanking party to get into position, they sat still and silent, not knowing what to make of the gaily-dressed cavalier who was speeding towards them.

We were not left long in doubt, however. He had no sooner reached the spot where the cornet had fallen than he sprang from his horse and helped himself to the dead man's pistols, and to the belt which contained his powder and ball. Mounting at his leisure, amid a shower of bullets which puffed up the white dust all around him, he rode onwards towards the dragoons and discharged one of his pistols at them. Wheeling round he politely raised his cap, and galloped back to us, none the worse for his adventure, though a ball had grazed his horse's fetlock and another had left a hole in the skirt of his riding-coat. The peasants raised a shout of jubilation as he rode in, and from that day forward our friend was permitted to wear his gay trappings and to bear himself as he would, without being suspected of having mounted the livery of Satan or of being wanting in zeal for the cause of the saints.

'They are coming,' cried Saxon. 'Let no man draw trigger until he sees me shoot. If any does, I shall send a bullet through him, though it was my last shot and the troopers were amongst us.'

As our leader uttered this threat and looked grimly round upon us with an evident intention of executing it, a shrill blare of a bugle burst from the hors.e.m.e.n in front of us, and was answered by those upon our flank. At the signal both bodies set spurs to their horses and dashed down upon us at the top of their speed. Those in the field were delayed for a few moments, and thrown into some disorder, by finding that the ground immediately in front of them was soft and boggy, but having made their way through it they re-formed upon the other side and rode gallantly at the hedge. Our own opponents, having a clear course before them, never slackened for an instant, but came thundering down with a jingling of harness and a tempest of oaths upon our rude barricades.

Ah, my children! when a man in his age tries to describe such things as these, and to make others see what he has seen, it is only then that he understands what a small stock of language a plain man keeps by him for his ordinary use in the world, and how unfit it is to meet any call upon it. For though at this very moment I can myself see that white Somersetshire road, with the wild whirling charge of the hors.e.m.e.n, the red angry faces of the men, and the gaping nostrils of the horses all wreathed and framed in clouds of dust, I cannot hope to make it clear to your young eyes, which never have looked, and, I trust, never shall look, upon such a scene. When, too, I think of the sound, a mere rattle and jingle at first, but growing in strength and volume with every step, until it came upon us with a thunderous rush and roar which gave the impression of irresistible power, I feel that that too is beyond the power of my feeble words to express. To inexperienced soldiers like ourselves it seemed impossible that our frail defence and our feeble weapons could check for an instant the impetus and weight of the dragoons. To right and left I saw white set faces, open-eyed and rigid, unflinching, with a stubbornness which rose less from hope than from despair. All round rose exclamations and prayers. 'Lord, save Thy people!' 'Mercy, Lord, mercy!' 'Be with us this day!' 'Receive our souls, O merciful Father!' Saxon lay across the waggon with his eyes glinting like diamonds and his petronel presented at the full length of his rigid arm. Following his example we all took aim as steadily as possible at the first rank of the enemy. Our only hope of safety lay in making that one discharge so deadly that our opponents should be too much shaken to continue their attack.

Would the man never fire? They could not be more than ten paces from us. I could see the buckles of the men's plates and the powder charges in their bandoliers. One more stride yet, and at last our leader's pistol flashed and we poured in a close volley, supported by a shower of heavy stones from the st.u.r.dy peasants behind. I could hear them splintering against casque and cuira.s.s like hail upon a cas.e.m.e.nt. The cloud of smoke veiling for an instant the line of galloping steeds and gallant riders drifted slowly aside to show a very different scene. A dozen men and horses were rolling in one wild blood-spurting heap, the unwounded falling over those whom our b.a.l.l.s and stones had brought down. Struggling, snorting chargers, iron-shod feet, staggering figures rising and falling, wild, hatless, bewildered men half stunned by a fall, and not knowing which way to turn-that was the foreground of the picture, while behind them the remainder of the troop were riding furiously back, wounded and hale, all driven by the one desire of getting to a place of safety where they might rally their shattered formation. A great shout of praise and thanksgiving rose from the delighted peasants, and surging over the barricade they struck down or secured the few uninjured troopers who had boon unable or unwilling to join their companions in their flight. The carbines, swords, and bandoliers were eagerly pounced upon by the victors, some of whom had served in the militia, and knew well how to handle the weapons which they had won.

The victory, however, was by no means completed. The flanking squadron had ridden boldly at the hedge, and a dozen or more had forced their way through, in spite of the showers of stones and the desperate thrusts of the pikemen and scythemen. Once amongst the peasants, the long swords and the armour of the dragoons gave them a great advantage, and though the sickles brought several of the horses to the ground the soldiers continued to lay about them freely, and to beat back the fierce but ill-armed resistance of their opponents. A dragoon sergeant, a man of great resolution and of prodigious strength, appeared to be the leader of the party, and encouraged his followers both by word and example. A stab from a half-pike brought his horse to the ground, but he sprang from the saddle as it fell, and avenged its death by a sweeping back-handed cut from his broadsword. Waving his hat in his left hand he continued to rally his men, and to strike down every Puritan who came against him, until a blow from a hatchet brought him on his knees and a flail stroke broke his sword close by the hilt. At the fall of their leader his comrades turned and fled through the hedge, but the gallant fellow, wounded and bleeding, still showed fight, and would a.s.suredly have been knocked upon the head for his pains had I not picked him up and thrown him into the waggon, where he had the good sense to lie quiet until the skirmish was at an end. Of the dozen who broke through, not more than four escaped, and several others lay dead or wounded upon the other side of the hedge, impaled by scythe-blades or knocked off their horses by stones. Altogether nine of the dragoons were slain and fourteen wounded, while we retained seven unscathed prisoners, ten horses fit for service, and a score or so of carbines, with good store of match, powder, and ball. The remainder of the troop fired a single, straggling, irregular volley, and then galloped away down the cross-road, disappearing amongst the trees from which they had emerged.