The oak staircase

by active 1867-1892 M. Lee; active 1867-1892 C. Lee

'"Perhaps my father will persuade him," I suggested: "they are such great friends, you know."

'"Ah! you don't know Lady Mountfort," returned Agnes despondingly. She was quite a Monmouthite already, the only drawback being her uneasiness for Algernon. In fact Dr. Power's eloquence had plunged every one of us (Henrietta alone excepted) heart and soul into the Duke's cause, which was not to be wondered at. What else, indeed, was to be expected, considering how very little we knew about the business, save what he chose to tell us? So we sat under the lime tree all that pleasant sunny morning, making guesses as to what our respective relations intended to do; and trying to persuade ourselves that they, one and all, must, should, and would buckle on their swords for our hero, the Duke of Monmouth.

'Madame invited us to sup with her that evening in the north parlour; and a few of her particular friends were of the party—Dr. Power amongst them, who was in tremendous spirits, and made another speech, so brilliant that I thought it might almost have brought King James himself to come quietly down from his throne and make a present of his crown to his nephew. Yes, that was a delightful evening. We danced, and sang madrigals, and played games, and, before we broke up, drank Monmouth's health in a cup of that very choice canary which was generally considered sacred to Dr. Power, and which Madame's pupils had never aspired to partake of in their wildest dreams.

'Well, the time passed on, and little was talked of in the house but the Duke of Monmouth and his prospects. Scraps of news came in from time to time to feed our excitement, the bearer thereof being generally Dr. Power. First we heard of a skirmish at Bridport, which seemed to have been a somewhat confused and doubtful affair, in which neither side had got much the best of it. Then we were shocked by hearing that Colonel Dare was dead, shot in a quarrel with a Scotch gentleman, one of Monmouth's followers. Dr. Power shook his head very gravely when he told us this. It looked ill, he said, for the discipline of the Duke's army and the unity of his officers, that such an outrage should have taken place. However, the Duke had been highly indignant, and had done the only thing that could be done under the circumstances, and sent off the offending Scot, Colonel Fletcher of Saltoun, to the Continent.

'"So there go two of his best officers already," quoth Dr. Power, with a sigh; "and that's no trifling loss, let me tell you. Ah! well, I always told Dare it would come to this. I have known him from a boy, and he was always the same furious, hot-headed fellow. Ah-h-h," and Dr. Power went away, whistling to be sure, as usual, but the air he whistled was slow and plaintive, and his face a shade less cheerful than it was wont to be. But the next time he made his appearance he was brisk and light-hearted as ever; and well he might be, considering what tidings he brought. Four thousand men of the train-bands, under the Duke of Albemarle, had been arrayed near Axminster, and were preparing to meet the invaders; but no sooner did Monmouth's troops appear upon the scene than the train-bands retreated in confusion, without waiting to strike a blow, and the Duke—our Duke—was marching in triumph towards Taunton. It was Dr. Power's opinion that we might expect to see him that very evening. You may fancy the effect of this announcement upon Madame St. Aubert's household. The delight and excitement that reigned there were quite indescribable. Even the scullions in the kitchen were heard uttering distant hurrahs.

'The rest of the day was spent in bustle and preparation. The garden was stripped of all its gayest and choicest flowers, and the usual books, slates, and ink-stands which generally filled the schoolroom gave way to bright heaps of roses, lilies, pansies, and carnations, which were to be turned into wreaths and garlands before the evening. Ah, how well I remember that day!—the laughter and chatter as we worked at the wreaths, and the breathless interest with which we watched them put up afterwards in festoons, over door, balcony, and windows. All the gardens in Taunton must have been plundered, I think, that morning, for, as we looked down the street, every house seemed, like our own, to be absolutely glowing with flowers.

'It was nearly sunset when the sound of drum and fife, the ring of steel, and the even tramp of many feet announced that Monmouth and his army must be at hand; and never shall I forget the storm of cheers that welcomed him as he came riding into the town. It seemed to rise from every street in Taunton; and I suppose it was that I had never heard so many voices together before, but the sound gave me a curious, uncomfortable, half-frightened feeling, as if I must get out of everybody's sight, and cry. However, this was quite out of the question; the balcony where we stood being so much crowded, that it was a hard matter to move one's arms enough to throw down the pinks and roses with which our aprons were filled. The street was thickly lined on each side with people in holiday dress, and all carrying green boughs; and from every window and balcony handkerchiefs and scarves were waving, and flowers were raining down. The Duke looked up and bowed as he passed underneath our windows whereupon Madame St. Aubert gasped out, "O mon roi! mon roi!" and burst into one of her floods of tears; while Bessie, in the violence of her feeling, flung away handkerchief and basket as well as her flowers, and was heard afterwards anxiously questioning every one as to what could possibly have become of them. "Was I not right, Frances? Is he not a noble, gallant prince? Does he not look like a king?" demanded she triumphantly, when the Duke and his white horse could no longer be distinguished. And to this I agreed, with all my heart; as well I might, considering how many older and wiser folks than I had been completely carried away by Monmouth's handsome face and graceful winning manner.

'"Oh Henrietta, if you would only have come out to see him, you would have changed your mind!" Such was the assurance that all the girls repeated over and over again, when Henrietta was hearing a detailed account of the procession from beginning to end; for she had steadily refused to help in the making of the wreaths or to join the party on the balcony, and Madame was far too much pre-occupied to care whether she came or stayed away. A shrug of the shoulders, and a contemptuous "stiff-necked little fool!" was her only attempt at remonstrance. So Henrietta quietly managed to keep out of the way all the afternoon; and when the last man in the procession had passed out of the street, we ran off to find her, and pour out a description of the great sight we had seen, to the only person in the house who had not been a witness of it. She was as much interested, and asked as many questions as we could wish; but all our regrets that she had missed the pageant, and all our protestations that she must have changed her mind had she seen the Duke of Monmouth, only made her smile and shake her head.

'"Indeed, Bessie," she said, "I quite believe that he is as handsome and brave and gallant a gentleman as you say, but that is no proof against what my father told me; and now I know that, I hope that merely to look upon him would not make me change my mind. I suppose a comely face and gentle bearing are not enough to give him a right to the throne, nor to make him a good king, or a good soldier either."

'There was no denying this; nevertheless it made not the slightest impression upon any of us. Madame St. Aubert and Dr. Power believed in the Duke of Monmouth, and we were content to follow their lead. He was our hero, for whom we vowed that we would willingly have laid down our lives, and, at the time, we really fancied that we meant what we said. Next morning, though the flowers had vanished from the schoolroom, books and desks were not yet to be seen in their stead. To-day the first thing that met our eyes as we entered the room was a piece of sky-blue silk spread out upon the middle of the table, and surrounded by innumerable skeins of gold and silver thread, and silks in all the colours of the rainbow. These, Madame told us, were the materials for a banner to be presented to the Duke before his departure from Taunton—"presented by us, our very own selves," as Lucy Fordyce said, clapping her hands with delight.