and magnifying the Royal forces-croaking and dispiriting the troops, and infecting the naturally cautious Essex with a desire to avoid any serious collision. Of such a feeble policy Cromwell soon showed his impatience. "Very unlike Bannier or Saxe-Weimar-eh, George," he would say, "this dawdling and retreating and watching? Our men will become cowards. Some of the other regiments seem to have little stomach for fighting, and some of our leaders are at heart really with the tyrant." Most of his old friends felt with him, but tried to restrain his bold expressions. Some of the aristocrats, like Sir Faithful Fortescue, despised the extreme leaders such as Cromwell, and their Puritan recruits. They hesitated not to use the most galling sneers, as "psalm-singing hypocrites," or "canting cowards." Cromwell, on the other hand, bluntly declared "there would never be a good time in England till they had done with lords," and that "if he met the King in battle, he would fight him as he would any soldier." Also he said, "Those who had no fear of God would be the first to turn traitors in action." These sayings were reported, and brought on the bold leader much odium. But he was all the more looked up to by the brave and forward spirits as a leader worthy of the time.

un

The troops retreated before the King as far as Worcester, where the armies lay looking at each other for days, though Essex had a larger force and better artillery. The complaints were so serious that a council of war was summoned. Fortescue, Lord Stamford, and others, spoke of their " tried and hasty levies; the drilled forces of the King; the generalship of the experienced Lindsay; the unrivalled Rupert; the courage and authority of Charles himself. If defeated, the King's way to London was open: we had better continue to watch and wait,-in spite," added Fortescue, "of ignorant civilians who hoped to win battles by their screaming lungs."

On this Cromwell rose, and with great firmness asked,

"How long are we to follow the footsteps of the foe? Where are the men to learn practice in arms? How can we tell that the King will not give us the slip, and be in London first?-Not by waiting and watching the King's face to see if he frown or smile shall we do the nation's work. I hate this shilly-shallying policy, and would strike straight and hard. As to singing of godly psalms, it was not found that the Scotch, or the gallant Swedes, were worse fighters for honouring God or caring for their souls. I am for speedy attack, and an end to suspense."

Just then a message arrived that Prince Rupert and Colonel Sandys were already reconnoitring on the other side of the town. Cromwell requested permission to attack them. Essex could not refuse, but sent an adjutant with many impeding instructions. Cromwell soon had his well-appointed troops in readiness, and rapidly marching round the outskirts came on the King's force in flank and rear. After a spirited conflict, the Prince and his troops gave way in disorder. The council was hardly ended when Cromwell and his officers-George among them-returned with the first laurels of the war. Cromwell was impressing on the assembly the urgent need of following up this slight success, when Major Sherwood entered quickly, and whispered to him. "It is even as I feared!" Cromwell exclaimed; "the King has taken courage by our timidity, and has stolen a march on us. This reconnaissance was but a feint to hide the movement,—as perhaps some here knew, as they do all the Royal plans. The King's forces are on the Kenilworth road, nearer than we to London. All depends on our overtaking and stopping their progress."

By forced marches, and leaving a good part of his army on the road, the main body crossed the Royal march at Edge Hill, in Warwickshire, where the first struggle of this terrible war occurred.

"There, George," said Cromwell, as at last the heights

were visible, crowned with the other army, and the Royal standard floating in the morning breeze," there is the sight I have prayed for ever since our fight at Rheinfeld. Now we shall surely dash at them and hurl them back. But I fear we may let them slip. Essex will be waiting for his stragglers to come up, and Fortescue is watching for the best time to go over to the other side. O God, breathe a spirit of zeal and courage on this tardy host!"

These forebodings were justified, for the two armies stood facing each other all the morning. The King's troops were strongly posted on high ground, and Essex objected to send his men up the slope to attack them. Cromwell, in despair, offered to take the responsibility of the assault.

Fortescue swore that the "Puritan should be allowed to have his way, and if he were cut to pieces, none of them would stir a finger."

Cromwell lifted his hand, saying, "To the Parliament those must answer who are losing the best hours of this precious day." On this Essex, about two o'clock, ordered his artillery to open fire. Meantime a council of war had been held by the King, in which Prince Rupert urged old Lindsay to descend the hill and overwhelm the enemy, who, he said, "were a set of poltroons who would take to their heels so soon as they saw them in earnest." These senseless counsels prevailed, and the opposite army saw with amazement the commanding position abandoned, and the whole host coming to meet them on the level. The King, in full armour, was in the centre, with the Earl of Lindsay. Sir Jacob Astley commanded the horse on the left; Prince Rupert on the right. The other army was in line at the foot of the hill, in the broad valley of the Red Horse. On the right Sir W. Balfour commanded; and here were Cromwell and Hampden, and most of their party.

As the King's troops came within range, Sir F. Fortescue fired his pistol as a signal, and his whole division quitted their ground and joined the King. They were received

with enthusiastic cheers. This produced a panic on the left wing of the Parliament army, and no doubt was done by previous arrangement. Then the battle began by Prince Rupert furiously charging the left wing, which had been just thrown into confusion, and which was broken up and pursued into Keinton. There the Prince suffered his men to plunder the baggage for an hour, leaving the battle to go on without him. The main forces of infantry met in the centre of the field, under the personal lead of Essex and Lindsay; and the Parliamentary levies showed their steadfast courage, to the surprise of Charles's troops. Their cavalry charged the Royalist centre, making for the standard, but was kept off by the brave pikemen who defended it. At length Balfour allowed Cromwell to wheel his regiment on to the flank of the King's men, which enabled him to break up their order, and seize their batteries and entrenchments. He followed up this success by charging the rear of the King's guards, who were making a firm stand; but now, being attacked on all sides, they wavered and gave way. Penetrating to the very standard, Cromwell's force waged a fearful combat for its possession. Sir Edward Varney, the bearer, was supported by several officers, among whom George detected Stephen Wren, fighting fiercely. George himself, with Will Barnard and some of his choice soldiers, attacked them with success. George overthrew Wren, horse and man, who was severely bruised. The standard-bearer was killed. Will, snatching the flag from his dying hand, passed it to his captain.

"Well done, Will!" said his master; "you have deserved promotion, which Essex shall give you for this trophy."

Essex came up and promoted Will, but handed the flag to an officer, from whom it was shortly retaken by a Royalist officer, who was knighted for his daring.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

ST. VALENTINE'S EVE IN NORWICH.

66

Hail, day of music, day of love,

On earth below, in air above!

On earth, the postman toils along,
Bent double by huge bales of song,
Where, rich with many a gorgeous dye,
Blazes all Cupid's heraldry—
Myrtles and roses, doves and sparrows,
Loveknots and altars, lamps and arrows!
What nymph without wild hopes and fears
The double rap this morning hears?”

LORD MACAULAY.

T was Valentine's Eve in the good city of Norwich.
There is perhaps no place where the saint

who presides over human ties of love is more ardently worshipped. Presents are almost universal from all sorts of relatives to each other. Not only that tender mystic tie which is represented by hearts and Cupids is expressed by them; but parents and children, brothers and sisters, and mutual friends, exchange tokens of yearly regard. The gifts are by no means confined to letters of symbolic affection, but are often valuable and useful articles. Great secrecy is observed in preparing them. In the dusk of twilight figures creep about the streets, depositing their parcels outside the doors. Then the knocker or bell is suddenly and loudly made to sound, and the striker rushes away. Within the hall are lurking children