2. II.
A FRIEND OF THE KING.
All at once, late in summer, came the intelligence
that his majesty had erected his standard at Nottingham,
and that his faithful subjects were flocking to him
by tens of thousands, to defend him against the “conspirators
of the Parliament.”
That version of affairs was somewhat glowing, as
events of speedy occurrence sufficiently proved; but
everybody placed credence then in the hopeful prospects
of the king, and one of our neighbors, Sir Jervas
Ireton by name, galloped over to congratulate my
father. Sir Jervas was a large florid man, of portly
and imposing appearance. He was not very popular,
but was prominent in the county.
“Let us rejoice, Mr. Cecil,” he cried, shaking my
father's hand violently, with an up-and-down pump-handle
movement, “that his sacred majesty is about to
punish these pestilent knaves of the parliament!”
My father remained unimpressed, and did not seem
to share his visitor's enthusiasm.
“Is it so certain?” he said. “And after all, I
think, Sir Jervas, there are men in the parliament who
are not knaves.”
Sir Jervas stared. “You astound me! Then you
are one of the `Godly'!”
My father smiled. “I am for the king,” he said,
“but without believing him altogether in the right.”
Thereat, Sir Jervas exploded, and made an oration
of the most violent character. His majesty was a persecuted
saint! the parliament was a gang of miscreants!
every gentleman and honest man should
adhere to his majesty, who would soon show the rascals
that he had might as well as right on his side!
Then Sir Jervas puffed and rolled about, so to say,
in the excess of his ardor. He remained an hour
longer, blazing with loyalty and enthusiasm. Then he
mounted his horse and galloped off to congratulate
some other friend of the king.
As time wore on,—miserably spent by the reader's
humble servant in longing for strength to mount his
horse,—the royal prospects appeared day by day less
promising. The number of the king's troops was ascertained
to be but small, his resources very limited, and
the enthusiasm in his cause far from general.
Followed thereupon a second visit from the worthy
Sir Jervas, who was much more moderate in his expressions,
and less convinced of the justice of the royal
cause. He had been mistaken, he said, in regarding
the merits of this unhappy misunderstanding as so
wholly on the side of his majesty. The collision between
king and parliament was truly unfortunate; the
royal authority should be vindicated in its just extent,
but he did not hesitate to say that a body of men so
virtuous, intelligent, and law-abiding as the great English
parliament could not be guilty of wrong or injustice.
The public troubles were distressing—most
distressing—to all good citizens, and it was to be hoped
that his majesty would not persist in armed opposition to
the peaceful execution of the laws of the realm. Thereupon
Sir Jervas Ireton bowed to my father, who had
listened without a word, and rode away. As he disappeared,
my father raised his finger, pointed after him,
and said to me,—
“There is a worthy personage who is going to turn
his coat.”
The reported forces of his majesty continued to
dwindle. It began to appear that the parliament was
the stronger; and one morning we heard that Sir Jervas
Ireton had gone to London on private business.
“He is going to ascertain which side to take,” my
father said.
But I had no time to think now of Sir Jervas, who,
as was shown afterwards, had been to London and returned.
At last I was strong enough to mount my
horse, and prepared with ardor for my journey to join
the Guardsmen again.
I was soon ready. My valise was packed, my sword
burnished, my pistols loaded,—for it was said that the
country swarmed with friends of the parliament now,
prepared to arrest all who attempted to join the royal
forces,—and the evening preceding the day fixed on
for my departure came.
On this evening Sir Jervas Ireton reappeared at
Cecil Court.
