forgotten what a parliament was, to consult with newly risen patriots about obtaining another; and by the country members of the King’s party, to parade their loyalty in the eyes of the Court and the judges. Added to these, there were ladies and gallant gentlemen who relished the prospect of a gay season in London at the beginning of the winter, and cared more for assemblies, and banquets, and balls, than for the honour of the Crown and the safety of the country. Some of all these orders of persons made up the throng which kept the inns busy, and the roads in their worst condition, on the fifth of that November. In former years, the innkeepers had driven a good trade on that day by pretending to suppose that every traveller who did not desire to toast the King at every stage was a Papist. This time, there was perhaps more ale and good wine asked for than in any former year; but the increase was in no proportion to the numbers; and it was agreed by all the hosts along the road, that the Papists had grown audacious. Whether it was the favour of the Queen towards the Papists, or their trust in the protection of the High Church, with Laud at the summit of it, they certainly did not, through meekness and fear, drink more on that day than they had a mind to.
While the stream of travellers thus set strongly towards London, a small party was riding eastwards which fixed the attention of the innkeepers on the road by their crossing the route of all the rest, by their having no questions to ask on the great affair of the day, and by the livery of the servant who was in attendance on the lady of the party. The groom in green livery put on grand airs of mystery wherever he stopped, and let it be known that he could give, instead of needing, information about the gentleman who was to be tried in London. He drew attention to his livery, and when asked about it, said that the inquirers might find out whose service he was in, it not being his business to tell. Thus challenged, curious people did find out that the livery was Mr. Hampden’s, and consequently that the lady was Mr. Hampden’s daughter. It was indeed Henrietta: and the news spread before the party, so that all hope of passing unobserved was at an end, and so much attention was offered at every stage, that Henrietta’s desire to finish her journey as soon as possible made her regardless of all fatigue. Her eldest brother Philip and her maid were her companions; and Philip was well pleased to push on, as he was anxious to be in London as soon as possible after the opening of the trial. A hindrance occurred which vexed him for a moment; but it was the cause of his release a day sooner than he had expected.
He was escorting his sister to the mansion of old Sir Oliver Cromwell in the Fens. Old Sir Oliver was their great-uncle; and of all his relations, Henrietta was his favourite. He had made overtures towards adopting her, when the troubles of the time were dividing families, and when relatives and friends grouped themselves by their sympathies, rather than by the nearness of their family ties. From the time of Margaret’s marriage Henrietta had never entertained the idea of leaving her father, who could ill-spare the solace of an elder daughter’s presence: but Henrietta was now in trouble; and for the sake of the whole family she found it best to hide herself and her griefs in her old uncle’s house far away. At Huntingdon, she was within an easy ride of Biggin House, Sir Oliver’s mansion: but there she was obliged to stop. The place was so full, and in such a state of agitation, that no horses could be had. There was nothing to be done but to stay there for the night.
While the brother and sister were consulting whether or not to disturb their great-aunt, Mrs. Cromwell, who lived retired at Huntingdon, they were joined by Cousin Oliver, who had heard that Mr. Hampden’s livery was in the town, and at once sought out the young people. He told them that there was no inn in the town which was fit for Henrietta to pass the night in; and he bade them be thankful that his mother’s house was open to them as a refuge. He insisted on their accompanying him there without delay; and they were as glad to do so as he could desire. It was a drawback that they could not appear in the street without having a crowd for an escort, but the distance was inconsiderable. As they issued from the inn yard, the crowd raised a cheer for the Lord of the Fens. Cousin Oliver lifted his hand; and there was silence in a moment.
“I will not be called Lord of the Fens,” he declared, in a voice which was heard to the end of the street, “I am lord of nothing; and no man is Lord of the Fens. I will tell you in public meeting this day what Lord you shall praise for the great work which has been done in our Fen land, and what other Lord you shall withstand in his pride about those doings. Come, one and all, and hear what shall then be said; but my will now is to pass quietly whither I am going. Fall back, and be silent till I return among you within one hour;—perhaps,” and he pointed to the church clock at hand, “within half-an-hour from the striking of the clock.”
The people fell back, and ceased cheering; but there was no preventing them from following; and when the party reached the old dame’s modest house, she was seen at the window, brought there by the hum of many voices, and the tramp of many feet. When she saw her son at the entrance, the door flew open, and Henrietta was glad to rush into the quiet of a private house.
She was kindly welcomed, in consideration of the hand that brought her. In a few minutes she was alone with her hostess. Cousin Oliver engaged to forward her to Biggin House the next day; and Philip Hampden was thus free to make his way to London as soon as his horse was sufficiently rested to proceed.
“Shall I bear your greeting to our father?” he asked his sister, as he bade her farewell. “Do not look reproachfully at me. I do not doubt your love: but may I tell him that he has your prayers for his release from the persecution of the wicked?”
“Tell him, with my humble duty,” she replied, “that I pray daily for his health and peaceful deliverance from all trouble. He knows how I pray that right may prevail.”
