ere now thronged, now suddenly
empty. Here came the aldermen in their robes, scared faces among the
scarlet, followed by a mob praying for news, asking in frenzy for
something certain, however terrible. There several in a body clamoured
at a citizen's door in the like fever of doubt. There was enough agony
of mind in Taunton that day to furnish out any company of tragedians.
We English, an emotional people by nature, are best when the blow has
fallen. We bear neither doubt nor rapture wisely. Our strength is shown
in troublous times in which other people give way to despair.
CHAPTER XXIV. THE END
Among all the confusion, I learned certainly from some deserters that
the Duke was at Bridgewater, waiting till his men had rested, before
trying to break through to the north, to his friends in Chester. He had
won a bad name for himself among his friends. Nobody praised him. The
Taunton people, who had given him such a splendid welcome ten days
before, now cursed him for having failed; they knew too well what sort
of punishment was sure to fall upon them, directly the fighting came to
an end. Somehow all their despairing talk failed to frighten me. I was
not scared by all the signs of panic in the streets. I was too young to
understand fully; but besides that I was buoyed up by the belief that
I had done a fine thing in escaping from prison in order to serve the
cause dear to my heart. My heart told me that I was going to a glorious
victory in the right cause. I cannot explain it. I felt my father in my
heart urging me to go forward. I would not have drawn back for all the
King's captains in a company riding out against me together. I felt that
these people were behaving absurdly; they should keep a brave patient
face against their troubles. Tomorrow or the next day would see us in
triumph, beating our enemies back to London, to the usurper's den in
Whitehall.
It drew towards sunset before I had found a means to get to Bridgewater.
The innkeepers who in times of peace sent daily carriers thither, with
whom a man could travel in comfort for a few pence, had now either lost
their horses, or feared to risk them. No carriers had gone either to
Bridgewater or to Bristol since the Duke marched in on the fourth day
of his journey; nor had the carriers come in as usual from those places;
the business of the town was at a standstill. I asked at several inns,
but that was the account given to me. There was no safety on the road
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