Micah Clarke Chapter 7 - Of the Horseman Who Rode From the West

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CHAPTER VII OF THE HORSEMAN WHO RODE FROM THE WEST My father set to work forth with preparing for our equipment, furnishing Saxon out as well as myself on the most liberal scale, for he was determined that the wealth of his age should be as devoted to the cause as was the strength of his youth. These arrangements had to be carried out with the most extreme caution, for there were many preletists in the village. And in the present disturbed state of the public mind, any activity on the part of so well known a man would have at once attracted attention. So carefully did the wary old soldier manage matters, however, that we soon found ourselves in a position to start at an hour's notice without any of our neighbors being a whit the wiser.

His first move was to purchase through an agent two suitable horses at Chichester Fair, which were conveyed to the stables of a trusty Whig farmer living near Portchester, who was ordered to keep them until they were called for.

Of these animals one was a mottled gray, of great metal and power, standing seventeen and a half hands high, and well up to my weight, for in those days, my dears, I had not laid on flesh, and weighed a little under sixteen stone for all my height and strength. A critic might have said that Covenant, for so I named my steed, was a trifle heavy about the head and neck. But I found him a trusty, willing brute, with great power and endurance. Saxon who when fully accoutered, could scarce have weighed more than twelve stone, had a light-based Spanish genet of great speed and spirit. This mayor he named Chloe, after a godly maiden of his acquaintance. Though, as my father remarked, there was a somewhat ungodly and heathenish smack about the Appalachian. These horses and their harness were brought and held ready, without my father appearing in the matter in any way. This important point having been settled, there was the further question of arms to be discussed, which gave rise to much weighty controversy between Decimus Saxon and my father. Each citing many instances from their own experiences, where the presence or absence of some tazlet or arm guard had been of the deepest import to the wearer. Your great-grandfather had set his heart upon my wearing the breastplate, which still bore the dints of the Scottish spears at Dunbar. But on trying it on, we found it was too small for me. I confess that this was a surprise, for when I looked back at the awe with which I had regarded my father's huge proportions, it was marvellous to me to have this convincing proof that I had outgrown him. By ripping down the side leather and piercing holes through which a lace could be passed, my mother managed to arrange it so that I could wear it without discomfort. A pair of tasselets or high pieces with guards for the upper arm and gauntlets were all borrowed from the old parliamentary equipment, together with the heavy sword and a pair of horse pistols which formed the usual weapons of a cavalier.

My father had chosen me a headpiece in Portsmouth, fluted with good barrettes, padded inside with soft leather, very light and yet very strong. When fully equipped, both Saxon and my father agreed that I had all the requisite for a well-appointed soldier. Saxon had purchased a buff coat, a steel cap, and a pair of jack boots, so that with the rapier and pistols which my father had presented him with, he was ready to take the field at any time. There would, we hoped, be no great difficulty in our reaching Monmouth's forces when the hour came. In those troublous times, the main roads were so infested by highwaymen and foot-pads that it was usual for travelers to carry weapons and even armor for their protection. There was no reason, therefore, why our appearance should excite suspicion. Should questions be asked, Saxon had a long story prepared, to the effect that we were traveling to join Henry Somerset, Duke of Beaufort, to whose household we belonged. This invention he explained to me with many points of corroboration, which I was to furnish. But when I said positively that I should rather be hanged as a rebel than speak of falsehood, he looked at me open-eyed and shook his head as one much shocked. A few weeks of campaigning, he said, would soon cure me of my squeamishness. For himself no more truthful child had ever carried a horn book, for he had learned to lie upon the Danube and looked upon it as a necessary part of the soldier's upbringing. For what are all stratagems, ombuscades and outfalls, but lying upon a large scale? He argued. What is an adroit commander, but one who hath a facility for disguising the truth? When at the battle of Sednlak, William the Norman ordered his men to feign flight in order that they might break his enemy's array.