Chapter 20 - Page 2

Prythee, what is this scroll which you do unroll?'

'It is an address of welcome and of allegiance, your Majesty, from your loyal town of Taunton.'

'I need no such address,' said King Monmouth, looking round. 'It is written all around me in fairer characters than ever found themselves upon parchment. My good friends have made me feel that I was welcome without the aid of clerk or scrivener. Your name, good Master Mayor, is Stephen Timewell, as I understand?'

'The same, your Majesty.'

'Too curt a name for so trusty a man,' said the King, drawing his sword and touching him upon the shoulder with it. 'I shall make it longer by three letters. Rise up, Sir Stephen, and may I find that there are many other knights in my dominions as loyal and as stout.'

Amidst the huzzahs which broke out afresh at this honour done to the town, the Mayor withdrew with the councilmen to the left side of the gate, whilst Monmouth with his staff gathered upon the right. At a signal a trumpeter blew a fanfare, the drums struck up a point of war, and the insurgent army, with serried ranks and waving banners, resumed its advance upon the town. As it approached, Saxon pointed out to us the various leaders and men of note who surrounded the King, giving us their names and some few words as to their characters.

'That is Lord Grey of Wark,' said he; 'the little middle-aged lean man at the King's bridle arm. He hath been in the Tower once for treason. 'Twas he who fled with the Lady Henrietta Berkeley, his wife's sister. A fine leader truly for a godly cause! The man upon his left, with the red swollen face and the white feather in his cap, is Colonel Holmes. I trust that he will never show the white feather save on his head. The other upon the high chestnut horse is a lawyer, though, by my soul, he is a better man at ordering a battalion than at drawing a bill of costs. He is the republican Wade who led the foot at the skirmish at Bridport, and brought them off with safety. The tall heavy-faced soldier in the steel bonnet is Anthony Buyse, the Brandenburger, a soldado of fortune, and a man of high heart, as are most of his countrymen. I have fought both with him and against him ere now.'

'Mark ye the long thin man behind him?' cried Reuben. 'He hath drawn his sword, and waves it over his head. 'Tis a strange time and place for the broadsword exercise. He is surely mad.'

'Perhaps you are not far amiss,' said Saxon. 'Yet, by my hilt, were it not for that man there would be no Protestant army advancing upon us down yonder road. 'Tis he who by dangling the crown before Monmouth's eyes beguiled him away from his snug retreat in Brabant. There is not one of these men whom he hath not tempted into this affair by some bait or other. With Grey it was a dukedom, with Wade the woolsack, with Buyse the plunder of Cheapside. Every one hath his own motive, but the clues to them all are in the hands of yonder