Martin's Gate from a city
whose streets were filled with the bleeding bodies of his late
supporters. Just outside the town he tried to rally his men; but in
vain, no fight was left in their scared hearts. Nothing remained but
flight at panic speed, for the bloodhounds of war were on his track, and
if caught by those stern Parliamentarians he might be given the short
shriving of his beheaded father. Away went the despairing prince with a
few followers, riding for life, flinging from him as he rode his blue
ribbon and garter and all his princely ornaments, lest pursuers should
know him by these insignia of royalty. On for twelve hours Charles and
his companions galloped at racing speed, onward through the whole night
following that day of blood and woe; and at break of day on September 4
they reached Whiteladies, a friendly house of refuge in Severn's fertile
valley.
The story of the after-adventures of the fugitive prince is so replete
with hair-breadth escapes, disguises, refreshing instances of fidelity,
and startling incidents, as to render it one of the most romantic tales
to be found in English history. A thousand pounds were set upon his
head, yet none, peasant or peer, proved false to him.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302