THE CUSTREL'S SONG.
Young Harry went out to look for a wife,
Hey, Harry Dally!
He said he would have her in virtues rife,
As soft as a pillow, yet keen as a knife,
With a hey ho, Harry!
The first that he met with was quiet and glum,
Hey, Harry Dally!
But she'd got a bad trick of sucking her thumb,
And when he cried "Mary!" the never would come,
With a hey ho, Harry!
The next that he came to was flighty and gay,
Hey, Harry Dally!
But she would not be play'd with, although she would play,
And good-humour was lost if she'd not her own way,
With a hey ho, Harry!
The next that he tried then was gentle and sweet,
Hey, Harry Dally!
But he found that all people alike she would treat,
And loved him as well as the next she should meet,
With a hey ho, Harry!
The next that he thought of was saucy and bold,
Hey, Harry Dally!
But he found that he had not the patience sevenfold
That could bear in one person a jade and a scold,
With a hey ho, Harry!
So, weary with searching for wedlock enow,
Hey, Harry Dally!
He thank'd his good stars he had made no rash vow,
And, like the old woman, went kissing his cow,
With a hey ho, Harry!
"The saucy knave!" cried Lady Katrine, laughing. "Out upon him! Bridget, Geraldine, if ye have the spirit of women, I am sure ye will not exchange a word with the fellow the rest of the journey? What! could he not make his hero find one perfect woman? But here comes our host with dinner, for which I thank heaven! for had it been later, my indignation would have cost me my appetite."
As soon as the horses were refreshed, Sir Osborne, with his fair charge, once more set out on the longer stage, which he proposed to take ere they paused for the night. The news which he had received at Sittenbourne leading him to imagine that the tumults at Rochester, having been suffered, by some inexplicable negligence, to remain unrepressed, had become much more serious than he at first supposed, he determined to take a by-way, and, avoiding the town, pass the river by a ferry, which Longpole assured him he would find higher up; but still this was longer, and would make them later on the road; for which reason he hurried their pace as much as possible, till they arrived at the spot where the smaller road turned off, at about two miles' distance from Rochester.
It was a shady lane, with, on each side, high banks and hedges, wherein the tender hand of April was beginning to bring forth the young green shrubs and flowers; and as the knight and lady went along, Nature offered them a thousand objects of descant which they did not fail to use. Their conversation, however, was interrupted after a while by the noise of a distant drum, and a variety of shouts and halloos came floating upon the gale, like the breakings-forth of an excited multitude.
As they advanced, the sounds seemed also to approach.
"My casque and lance," said Sir Osborne, turning to Longpole. "Lady, you had perhaps better let your jennet drop back to a line with your women."
"Nay, I will dare the front," said Lady Katrine; "a woman's presence will often tame a crowd."
"You are with a band of soldiers," said Sir Osborne, hearing the clamour approaching, "and must obey command. What! horse; back, back!" and laying his hand on the lady's bridle, he reined it back to a line with her women. "Longpole, advance!" cried the knight. "Left-hand spear of the third line to the front! Archers behind, keep a wary eye on the banks: shoot not, but bend your bows. I trust there is no danger, lady, but 'tis well to be prepared. Now, on slowly."
And thus opposing what defence they could between Lady Katrine and the multitude, whose cries they now heard coming nearer and nearer, Sir Osborne and the two horsemen he had called to his side, moved forward, keeping a wary eye on the turnings of the road and the high banks by which it was overhung.
They had not proceeded far, however, before they descried the termination of the lane, opening out upon what appeared to be a village-green beyond; the farther side of which was occupied by a motley multitude, whose form and demeanour they had now full opportunity to observe.
In front of all the host was a sort of extempore drummer, who with a bunch of cocks' feathers in his cap, and a broad buff belt supporting his instrument of discord, seemed infinitely proud of his occupation, and kept beating with unceasing assiduity, but with as little regard to time on his part as his instrument had to tune. Behind him, mounted on a horse of inconceivable ruggedness, appeared the general with, a vast cutlass in his hand, which he swayed backwards and forwards in menacing attitudes; while, unheedful of the drum, he bawled forth to his followers many a pious exhortation to persevere in rebellion. On the left of this doughty hero was borne a flag of blue silk, bearing, inscribed in golden letters, The United Shipwrights; and on his right was seen a red banner, on which might be read the various demands of the unsatisfied crowd, such as, "Cheap Bread," "High Wages," "No Taxation," &c.
The multitude itself did indeed offer a formidable appearance, the greater part of the men who composed it being armed with bills and axes; some also having possessed themselves of halberts, and even some of hackbuts and hand-guns. Every here and there appeared an iron jack, and many a 'prentice-boy filled up the crevices with his bended bow; while half a score of loud-mouthed women screamed in the different quarters of the crowd, and, with the shrill trumpet of a scolding tongue, urged on the lords of the creation to deeds of wrath and folly.
The multitude might consist of about five thousand men: and as they marched along, a bustle, and appearance of crowding round one particular spot in their line, led the knight to imagine that they were conducting some prisoner to Rochester, in which direction they seemed to be going, traversing the green at nearly a right angle with the line in which he was himself proceeding. "Hold!" said Sir Osborne, reining in his horse. "Let them pass by. We are not enough to deal with such numbers as there are there. Keep under the bank; we must not risk the lady's safety by showing ourselves. Ah! but what should that movement mean? They have seen us, by heaven! Ride on then; we must not seem to shun them. See! they wheel! On, on! quick! Gain the mouth of the lane!"
Thus saying, Sir Osborne laid his lance in the rest, and spurred on to the spot where the road opened upon the green, followed by Lady Katrine and her women, not a little terrified and agitated by the roaring of the multitude, who, having now made a retrograde motion on their former position, occupied the same ground that they had done at first, and regarded intently the motions of Sir Osborne's party, not knowing what force might be behind.
As soon as the knight had reached the mouth of the road he halted, and seeing that the high bank ran along the side of the green guarding his flank, he still contrived to conceal the smallness of his numbers by occupying the space of the road, and paused a moment to watch the movements of the crowd, and determine its intentions.
Now, being quite near enough to hear great part of an oration which the general whom we have described was bestowing on his forces, Sir Osborne strained his ear to gather his designs, and soon found that his party was mistaken for that of Lord Thomas Howard, who had been sent to quell the mutiny of the Rochester shipwrights.
"First," said the ringleader, "hang up the priest upon that tree, then let him preach to us about submission if he will; and he shall be hanged, too, in his lord's sight, for saying that he, with his hundreds, would beat us with our thousands, and let his lord deliver him if he can. Then some of the men with bills and axes get up on the top of the bank: who says it is not Lord Thomas? I say it is Lord Thomas; I know him by his bright armour."
"And I say you lie, Timothy Bradford!" cried Longpole, at the very pitch of his voice, much to the wonder and astonishment of Sir Osborne and his party. "Please your worship," he continued, lowering his tone, "I know that fellow; he served with me at Tournay, and was afterwards a sailor. He's a mad rogue, but as good a heart as ever lived."
"Oh, then, for God's sake! speak to him," cried Lady Katrine from behind, "and make him let us pass; for surely, sir knight, you are not mad enough, with only six men, to think of encountering six thousand?"
"Not I, in truth, fair lady," answered the knight. "If they will not molest us, I shall not meddle with them."
"Shall I on, then, and speak with him?" cried Longpole. "See! he heard me give him the lie, and he's coming out towards us. He'd do the same if we were a thousand."
"Meet him, meet him, then!" said the knight; "tell him all we wish is to pass peaceably. The right-hand man advance from the rear and fill up!" he continued, as Longpole rode on, taking care still to maintain a good face to the enemy, more especially as their generalissimo had now come within half a bow-shot of where they stood.
As the yeoman now rode forward, the ringleader of the rioters did not at all recognise his old companion in his custrel's armour, and began to brandish his weapon most fiercely; but in a moment afterwards, to the astonishment of the multitude, he was seen to let the point of the sword drop, and, seizing his antagonist's hand, shake it with every demonstration of surprise and friendship. Their conversation was quick and energetic; and a moment after, Longpole rode back to Sir Osborne, while the ringleader raised his hand to his people, exclaiming, "Keep your ranks! Friends! These are friends!"
"Our passage is safe," said Longpole, riding back; "but he would fain speak with your worship. They have taken a priest, it seems, and are going to hang him for preaching submission to them. So I told him if they did they would be hanged themselves; but he would not listen to me, saying he would talk to you about it."
"Fill up my place," said the knight; "I will go and see what can be done. We must not let them injure the good man."
So saying he raised his lance, and rode forward to the spot where the ringleader waited him; plainly discerning, as he approached nearer to the body of the rioters, the poor priest, with a rope round his neck, holding forth his hands towards him, as if praying for assistance.
"My shield-bearer," said he, "tells me that we are to pass each other without enmity; for though we are well prepared to resist attack, we have no commission to meddle with you or yours. Nevertheless, as I understand that ye have a priest in your hands, towards whom ye meditate some harm, let me warn you of the consequences of injuring an old man who cannot have injured you."
"But he has done worse than injured me, sir knight," said the ringleader; "he has preached against our cause, and against redressing our grievances."
"Most probably not against redressing your grievances," said Sir Osborne, "but against the method ye took to redress them yourselves. But listen to me. It is probable that the king, hearing of your wants and wishes, he being known both for just and merciful, may grant you such relief as only a king can grant; but if ye go to stain yourselves with the blood of this priest, which were cowardly, as he is an old man; which were base, as he is a prisoner; and which were sacrilegious, as he is a man of God, ye cut yourselves off from mercy for ever, and range all good men amongst your enemies. Think well of this!"
"By the nose of the tinker of Ashford!" said the man, "your worship is right. But how the devil to get him out of their hands? that's the job; however, I'll make 'em a 'ration. But what I was wanting to ask your worship is, do you know his grace the king?"
"Not in the least," was the laconic reply of the knight.
"Then it won't do," said the man; "only, as merry Dick Heartley said you were thick with the good Duke of Buckingham, I thought you might know the king too, and would give him our petition and remonstrance. However, I'll go and make them fellows a 'ration: they're wonderful soon led by a 'ration." And turning his horse, he rode up to the front of the body of rioters, and made them a speech, wherein nonsense and sense, bombast and vulgarity, were all most intimately mingled. Sir Osborne did not catch the whole, but the sounds which reached his ears were somewhat to the following effect:
"Most noble shipwrights and devout cannon-founders, joined together in the great cause of crying down taxation and raising your wages! To you I speak, as well as to the tinkers, tailors, and 'prentices who have united themselves to you. The noble knight that you see standing there, or rather riding, because he is on horseback: he in the glittering armour, with a long spear in his hand, is the dearly beloved friend of the great and good Duke of Buckingham, who is the friend of the commons and an enemy to taxation."
Here loud cries of "Long live the Duke of Buckingham!" "God bless the duke!" interrupted the speaker; but after a moment he proceeded. "He, the noble knight, is not Lord Thomas Howard; and so far from wishing to attack you, he would wish to do you good. Therefore he setteth forth and showeth--praise be to God for all things, especially that we did not hang the priest!--that if we were to hang the priest, it would be blasphemous, because he is an old man; and rascally, because he is a man of God; and moreover, that whereas, if we do not, the king will grant us our petition. He will infallibly come down, if we do, with an army of fifty thousand men, and hang us all with his own hands, and the Duke of Buckingham will be against us. Now understand! I am not speaking for myself, for I know well enough that, having been elected your captain, and ridden on horseback while ye marched on foot, I am sure to be hanged anyhow; but that is no reason that ye should all be hanged too; and, therefore, I give my vote that Simon the cannon-founder, Tom the shipwright, and long-chinned Billy the tinker, do take the priest by the rope that is round his neck, and deliver him into the hands of the knight and his men, to do with as they shall think fit. And that after this glorious achievement we march straightway back to Rochester. Do you all agree?"
Loud shouts proclaimed the assent of the multitude; and with various formalities the three deputies led forth the unhappy priest, more dead than alive, and delivered him into the hands of Longpole: after which the generalissimo of the rioters drew up his men with some military skill upon the right of the green, leaving the road free to Sir Osborne. The knight then marshalled his little party as best he might, to guard against any sudden change in the minds of the fickle multitude; and having mounted the poor exhausted priest behind one of the horsemen, he drew out from the lane, and passed unmolested across the green into the opposite road, returning nothing but silence to the cheers with which the rioters thought fit to honour them.
Their farther journey to Gravesend passed without any interruption, and indeed without any occurrence worthy of notice. Lady Katrine and Sir Osborne, Geraldine and Longpole, mutually congratulated each other on the favourable termination of an adventure which had commenced under such threatening auspices; and every one of the party poured forth upon his neighbour the usual quantity of wonder and amazement which always follows any event of the kind. The poor priest, who had so nearly fallen a victim to the excited passions of the crowd, was the last that sufficiently recovered from the strong impressions of the moment to babble thereupon.
When, however, his loquacious faculties were once brought into play, he contrived to compensate for his temporary taciturnity, shouting forth his thanks to Sir Osborne Maurice from the rear to the front, declaring that the preservation of his life was entirely owing to his valour and conduct; that it was wonderful the influence which his sole word possessed with the multitude, and that he should never cease to be grateful till the end of his worldly existence.
Sir Osborne assured him that he was very welcome; and remarked, with a smile, to Lady Katrine, who was laughing at the priest's superfluity of gratitude, that in all probability it was this sort of exuberance of zeal that had brought him into the perilous circumstances in which they had at first found him.
"But can zeal ever be exuberant?" demanded Lady Katrine, suddenly changing her tone; and then fixing the full light of her beautiful dark eyes upon the knight, she added, "I mean in a friend."
"It can," said Sir Osborne, "when not guided by prudence. But I do not think a fool can be a friend."
"Come, sir knight, come!" said the lady; "let us hear your idea of a friend."
"A friend," replied the knight, smiling at her earnestness, "must be both a wise man and a good man. He must love his friend with sufficient zeal to see his faults and endeavour to counteract them, and with sufficient prudence to perceive his true interests and to strive for them. But he must put aside vanity; for there is many a man who pretends a great friendship for another merely for the vain purpose of advising and guiding him, when, in truth, he is not capable of advising and guiding himself. The man who aspires to such a name must be to his friend what every man would be to himself, if he could see his own faults undazzled by self-love and his own interests unblinded by passion. He must be zealous and kind, steady and persevering, without being curious or interfering, troublesome or obstinate."
"Would I had such a friend!" said Lady Katrine, with a sigh, and for the rest of the way she was grave and pensive.