I got back to see to things, and went to the hoard in the wall—’twas empty. Neither silver piece nor hyacinth bulb was there.’
‘Oh, what evil fortune!’ said Simon, after another silence. ‘What happened, Zeal-for-the-Lord?’
‘I planted me vineyards; I made me gardens and orchards, and planted in them of all kinds of fruits—and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun,’ quoted Zeal-for-the-Lord moodily. ‘What happened? Why, I went back to the Troop, and within a month old Squire died, and the Manor went to some gay young sprig as sold off up’ards of half the farms and holdings. Some of the farmers bought in their land. I couldn’t.’
‘But—would the thirty pounds have done it?’ suggested Simon.
‘No; but ’twould have been enough for a start, and I couldhave paid the rest later. The white hyacinth would have brought in a goodish bit once ’twas on the market. New Squire weren’t unreasonable.’
‘There was no one you could have borrowed from?’
‘If there had been, I’d have swallowed my pride, and borrowed,’ said the Corporal. ‘I loved the land well enough for that. But we aren’t a rich folk with money to lend, we Fen farmers. James Gibberdyke, my neighbour, he’d have lent it me if he’d had it. A bit on the feckless side, James were, and had even less than more. But the staunches’ friend any man could be wishful to have in time of distress. “A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity,” saith the Good Book, and that was James all over, and a deal closer to me than my own brother: for Aaron and me never had much in common, save the holding. Yet there was some as looked down on James for a ne’er-do-well, not knowing him as I do.’ He drew his long legs under him and got up. ‘And now, sir, ’tis about time you gave orders for the march.’
So Simon knew that the odd intimacy of the past half-hour was over. He got up obediently, finished the beer, and went back to the tavern with his Corporal marching at his heels.
VII
Into Battle
ON A SUMMER morning some months later, two armies faced each other across a wide upland valley, a mile or so north-east of Naseby. The light west wind stirred and fretted the Colours of the opposing regiments, but save for the wind, it was very quiet; and as the waiting minutes lengthened, Simon, sitting his eager Scarlet in the ranks of the New Model, found himself thinking back over the events that had brought him there.
‘Six weeks ago, when Cromwell and a body of Horse had already been sent to keep the King shut up in Oxford, the New Model had marched west under orders from the Committee to relieve Taunton. Horse, Foot and Train, they had marched out under the grey Castle ramparts, with the camp-followers riding in the commissariat wagons or tagging along behind (for the New Model, like other armies of their day and long afterwards, were followed on Campaign by wives and sweethearts without whom it would have gone hard with the sick and wounded). There had been trouble about the rearguard before they were two days out: Fairfax’s Foot had objected to taking their turn of rear-guard duty; they were the General’s Own; why should they march in the rear with their mouths full of the dust of lesser regiments? They had chosen a spokesman and put their case to the General. Fairfax’s reply was typical of him; he was sorry that his Regiment found themselves too grand for rearguard duty, but he himself did not; and he had dismounted and marched with them. There had been no more trouble with the rearguard after that; but plenty of another kind.
They had scarcely reached Taunton when they were recalled and ordered to besiege Oxford, from which the King had already escaped, slipping past Cromwell and heading north to joinMontrose on the Border. Cromwell had been sent off again, this time to see to the defence of Ely; the Army had grumbled and grown restive; the siege had
‘Oh, what evil fortune!’ said Simon, after another silence. ‘What happened, Zeal-for-the-Lord?’
‘I planted me vineyards; I made me gardens and orchards, and planted in them of all kinds of fruits—and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun,’ quoted Zeal-for-the-Lord moodily. ‘What happened? Why, I went back to the Troop, and within a month old Squire died, and the Manor went to some gay young sprig as sold off up’ards of half the farms and holdings. Some of the farmers bought in their land. I couldn’t.’
‘But—would the thirty pounds have done it?’ suggested Simon.
‘No; but ’twould have been enough for a start, and I couldhave paid the rest later. The white hyacinth would have brought in a goodish bit once ’twas on the market. New Squire weren’t unreasonable.’
‘There was no one you could have borrowed from?’
‘If there had been, I’d have swallowed my pride, and borrowed,’ said the Corporal. ‘I loved the land well enough for that. But we aren’t a rich folk with money to lend, we Fen farmers. James Gibberdyke, my neighbour, he’d have lent it me if he’d had it. A bit on the feckless side, James were, and had even less than more. But the staunches’ friend any man could be wishful to have in time of distress. “A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity,” saith the Good Book, and that was James all over, and a deal closer to me than my own brother: for Aaron and me never had much in common, save the holding. Yet there was some as looked down on James for a ne’er-do-well, not knowing him as I do.’ He drew his long legs under him and got up. ‘And now, sir, ’tis about time you gave orders for the march.’
So Simon knew that the odd intimacy of the past half-hour was over. He got up obediently, finished the beer, and went back to the tavern with his Corporal marching at his heels.
VII
Into Battle
ON A SUMMER morning some months later, two armies faced each other across a wide upland valley, a mile or so north-east of Naseby. The light west wind stirred and fretted the Colours of the opposing regiments, but save for the wind, it was very quiet; and as the waiting minutes lengthened, Simon, sitting his eager Scarlet in the ranks of the New Model, found himself thinking back over the events that had brought him there.
‘Six weeks ago, when Cromwell and a body of Horse had already been sent to keep the King shut up in Oxford, the New Model had marched west under orders from the Committee to relieve Taunton. Horse, Foot and Train, they had marched out under the grey Castle ramparts, with the camp-followers riding in the commissariat wagons or tagging along behind (for the New Model, like other armies of their day and long afterwards, were followed on Campaign by wives and sweethearts without whom it would have gone hard with the sick and wounded). There had been trouble about the rearguard before they were two days out: Fairfax’s Foot had objected to taking their turn of rear-guard duty; they were the General’s Own; why should they march in the rear with their mouths full of the dust of lesser regiments? They had chosen a spokesman and put their case to the General. Fairfax’s reply was typical of him; he was sorry that his Regiment found themselves too grand for rearguard duty, but he himself did not; and he had dismounted and marched with them. There had been no more trouble with the rearguard after that; but plenty of another kind.
They had scarcely reached Taunton when they were recalled and ordered to besiege Oxford, from which the King had already escaped, slipping past Cromwell and heading north to joinMontrose on the Border. Cromwell had been sent off again, this time to see to the defence of Ely; the Army had grumbled and grown restive; the siege had
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