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Lunsford's light-horse, and afterwards with Goring. I was a child-eater, sir-a babebolter."

"I have heard of your regiment's exploits, sir; and perhaps you may find I have seen some of them, if we should spend ten minutes together. And I think I have heard of your name too. I beg to drink your health, Captain Wildrake of Squattleseamere, Lincolnshire."

"Sir Henry, I drink yours in this pint bumper, and upon my knee; and I would do as much for that young gentleman "-(looking at Albert)-" and the squire of the green cassock too, holding it for green, as the colours are not to my eyes altogether clear and distinguishable."

It was a remarkable part of what is called by theatrical folk the by-play of this scene, that Albert was conversing apart with Dr. Rochecliffe in whispers, even more than the divine seemed desirous of encouraging; yet, to whatever their private conversation referred, it did not deprive the young Colonel of the power of listening to what was going forward in the party at large, and interfering from time to time, like a watch-dog, who can distinguish the slightest alarm, even when employed in the engrossing process of taking his food.

"Captain Wildrake," said Albert, "we have no objection-I mean, my friend and Ito be communicative on proper occasions; but you, sir, who are so old a sufferer, must needs know, that at such casual meetings as this, men do not mention their names unless they are specially wanted. It is a point of conscience, sir, to be able to say, if your principal, Captain Everard or Colonel Everard, if he be a Colonel, should examine you upon oath, I did not know who the persons were whom I heard drink such and such toasts."

"Faith, I have a better way of it, worthy sir," answered Wildrake; "I never can, for the life of me, remember that there were any such and such toasts drunk at all. It's a strange gift of forgetfulness I have."

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'Well, sir,” replied the younger Lee; "but we, who have unhappily more tenacious memories, would willingly abide by the more general rule.”

“Oh, sir,” answered Wildrake, "with all my heart. I intrude on no man's confidence, d-n me and I only spoke for civility's sake, having the purpose of drinking your health in a good fashion."-(Then he broke forth into melody)

"Then let the health go round, a-round, a-round, a-round,

Then let the health go round;

For though your stocking be of silk,

Your knee shall kiss the ground, a-ground, a-ground, a-ground,
Your knee shall kiss the ground.'"

"Urge it no farther," said Sir Henry, addressing his son ; " Master Wildrake is one of the old school—one of the tantivy boys; and we must bear a little, for if they drink hard they fought well. I will never forget how a party came up and rescued us clerks of Oxford, as they called the regiment I belonged to, out of a cursed embroglio during the attack on Brentford. I tell you we were enclosed with the cockneys' pikes both front and rear, and we should have come off but ill had not Lunsford's light-horse, the babe-eaters as they called them, charged up to the pike's point, and brought us off." "I am glad you thought on that, Sir Henry," said Wildrake; "and do you remember what the officer of Lunsford's said?"

"I think I do," said Sir Henry, smiling.

"Well, then, did not he call out, when the women were coming down, howling like sirens as they were 'Have none of you a plump child that you could give us to break our fast upon?""

"Truth itself!" said the knight; "and a great fat woman stepped forward with a baby, and offered it to the supposed cannibal."

All at the table, Master Kerneguy excepted, who seemed to think that good food of any kind required no apology, held up their hands in token of amazement.

"Ay," said Wildrake, "the-a-hem!-I crave the lady's pardon again, from tip of top-knot to hem of farthingale-but the cursed creature proved to be a parish nurse, who had been paid for the child half a year in advance. Gad, I took the babe out of the bitch-wolf's hand; and I have contrived, though God knows I have lived in a skeldering sort of way myself, to breed up bold Breakfast, as I call him, ever since. It was paying dear for a jest, though."

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Sir, I honour you for your humanity," said the old knight—" Sir, I thank you for your courage-Sir, I am glad to see you here," said the good knight, his eyes watering almost to overflowing. "So you were the wild officer who cut us out of the toils; Oh, sir, had you but stopped when I called on you, and allowed us to clear the streets of Brentford with our musketeers, we would have been at London Stone that day! But your good will was the same."

"Ay, truly was it," said Wildrake, who now sat triumphant and glorious in his easy-chair; "and here is to all the brave hearts, sir, that fought and fell in that same storm of Brentford. We drove all before us like chaff, till the shops, where they sold strong waters, and other temptations, brought us up. Gad, sir, we, the babe-eaters, had too many acquaintances in Brentford, and our stout Prince Rupert was ever better at making way than drawing off. Gad, sir, for my own poor share, I did but go into the house of a poor widow lady, who maintained a charge of daughters, and whom I had known of old, to get my horse fed, a morsel of meat, and so forth, when these cockney pikes of the artillery ground, as you very well call them, rallied, and came in with their armed heads, as boldly as so many Cotswold rams. I sprang down stairs, got to my horse,-but, egad, I fancy all my troop had widows and orphan maidens to comfort as well as I, for only five of us got together. We cut our way through successfully; and Gad, gentlemen, I carried my little Breakfast on the pommel before me; and there was such a hollowing and screeching, as if the whole town thought I was to kill, roast, and eat the poor child, so soon as I got to quarters. But devil a cockney charged up to my bonny bay, poor lass, to rescue little cake-bread; they only cried haro, and out upon me."

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Alas, alas!" said the knight, "we made ourselves seem worse than we were; and we were too bad to deserve God's blessing even in a good cause. But it is needless to look back; we did not deserve victories when God gave them, for we never improved them like good soldiers, or like Christian men; and so we gave these canting scoundrels the advantage of us, for they assumed, out of mere hypocrisy, the discipline and orderly behaviour which we, who drew our swords in a better cause, ought to have practised out of true principle. But here is my hand, Captain. have often wished to see the honest fellow who charged up so smartly in our behalf, and I reverence you for the care you took of the poor child. I am glad this dilapidated place has still some hospitality to offer you, although we cannot treat you to roasted babes or stewed sucklings-eh, Captain ?"

"Troth, Sir Henry, the scandal was sore against us on that score. I remember Lacy, who was an old play-actor, and a lieutenant in ours, made drollery on it in a play which was sometimes acted at Oxford, when our hearts were something up, called, I think, the Old Troop."

*The terrors preceding the civil wars, which agitated the public mind, rendered the grossest and most exaggerated falsehoods current among the people. When Charles I. appointed Sir Thomas Lunsford to the situation of Lord Lieutenant of the Tower, the celebrated John Lillburn takes to himself the credit of exciting the public hatred against this officer and Lord Digby, as pitiless bravoes of the most bloody-minded description, from whom the people were to expect nothing but bloodshed and massacre. Of Sir Thomas Lunsford, in particular, it was reported that his favourite food was the flesh of children, and he was painted like an ogre in the act of cutting a child into steaks and broiling them. The Colonel fell at the Siege of Bristol in 1643, but the same calumny pursued his remains, and the credulous multitude were told,

The

So saying, and feeling more familiar as his merits were known, he hitched his chair up against that of the Scottish lad, who was seated next him, and who, in shifting his place, was awkward enough to disturb, in his turn, Alice Lee, who sate opposite, and, a little offended, or at least embarrassed, drew her chair away from the table.

"I crave pardon," said the honourable Master Kerneguy; "but, sir," to Master Wildrake, "ye hae e'en garr'd me hurt the young lady's shank."

"I crave your pardon, sir, and much more that of the fair lady, as is reasonable; though, rat me, sir, if it was I set your chair a-trundling in that way. Zooks, sir, I have brought with me no plague, nor pestilence, nor other infectious disorder, that ye should have started away as if I had been a leper, and discomposed the lady, which I would have prevented with my life, sir. Sir, if ye be northern born, as your tongue bespeaks, egad, it was I ran the risk in drawing near you; so there was small reason for you to bolt."

"Master Wildrake," said Albert, interfering, "this young gentleman is a stranger as well as you, under protection of Sir Henry's hospitality, and it cannot be agreeable for my father to see disputes arise among his guests. You may mistake the young

"The post who came from Coventry,

Riding in a red rocket,

Did tidings tell how Lunsford fell,

A child's hand in his pocket."

Many allusions to this report, as well as to the credulity of those who believed it, may be found in the satires and lampoons of the time, although, says Dr. Grey, Lunsford was a man of great sobriety, industry, and courage. Butler says, that the preachers

"Made children with their lives to run for't,

As bad as Bloody bones or Lunsford."

But this extraordinary report is chiefly insisted upon in a comedy called the Old Troop, written by John Lacy, the comedian. The scene is laid during the civil wars of England, and the persons of the drama are chiefly those who were in arms for the King. They are represented as plundering the country without mercy, which Lacy might draw from the life, having, in fact, begun his career as a lieutenant of cavalry, in the service of Charles I. The troopers find the peasants loth to surrender to them their provisions, on which, in order to compel them, they pretend to be in earnest in the purpose of eating the children. A scene of coarse but humorous comedy is then introduced, which Dean Swift had not, perhaps, forgotten, when he recommended the eating of the children of the poor as a mode of relieving the distresses of their parents.

"Lieutenant. Second me, and I'll make them bring out all they have, I warrant you. Do but talk as if we used to eat children.-Why, look you, good woman, we do believe you are poor, so we'll make a shift with our old diet-you have children in the town?

"Woman. Why do you ask, sir?

"Lieutenant. Only have two or three to supper. Flea-flint, you have the best way of cooking children.

"Plea-fint. I can powder them to make you taste your liquor. I am never without a dried child's tongue or ham. "Woman. O! bless me!

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Flea-flint. Mine's but the ordinary way; but Foordfarm is the man; he makes you the savouriest pie of a child chaldron that was ever eat.

"Lieutenant.

A plague! all the world cannot cook a child like Mr. Raggou, [a French cook or messman to the troop, and the buffoon of the piece.]

“Raggou. Begar me think so; for vat was me bred in the King of Mogol's kitchen? dere we kill twenty shild of a day. Take you one shild by both his two heels, and put his head between your two knees, and take your knife and slice off all buttocks, -so fashion; begar, that make a de best Scots collop in de world.

"Lieutenant. Ah, he makes the best pottage of a child's head and feet, however; but you must boil it with baconWoman, you must get bacon.

"Woman. O Lud-yes, sir!

"Ford. And then it must be very young.

"Lieutenant. Yes, yes-Good woman, it must be a fine squab child, of half a year old-a man child, dost hear?"-The Old Troop, Act III.

After a good deal more to this purpose, the villagers determine to carry forth their sheep, poultry, &c. to save their children. In the meantime, the Cavaliers are in some danger of being cross-bit, as they then called it; that is, caught in their own snare. A woman enters, who announces herself thus:

"Woman. By your leave, your good worships, I have made bold to bring you in some provisions.

"Ford. Provisions? where, where is this provision?

"Woman. Here, if it please you, I have brought you a couple of fine fleshy children.

"Coronet.

Was ever such a horrid woman! what shall we do?

"Woman. Truly, gentlemen, they are fine squab children; shall I turn them up?-they have the bravest brawn and buttocks.

"Lieutenant. No, no; but woman, art thou not troubled to part with thy children?

"Woman. Alas, sir, they are none of mine, they are only nurse children.

"Lieutenant. What a beast is this-whose children are they?

"Woman. A laundress that owes me for a year's nursing; I hope they'll prove excellent meat; they are twins too. Raggou. Aha, but! but begar we never eat no twin shild, the law forbid that."-Ibidem.

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In this manner the Cavaliers escape from the embarrassing consequences of their own stratagem, which, as the reader will perceive, has been made use of in the text.

VOL. X.

gentleman's quality from his present appearance—this is the Honourable Master Louis Kerneguy, sir, son of my Lord Killstewers of Kincardineshire, one who has fought for the King, young as he is."

"No dispute shall rise through me, sir-none through me," said Wildrake; "your exposition sufficeth, sir.-Master Louis Girnigo, son of my Lord Kilsteer, in Gringardenshire, I am your humble slave, sir, and drink your health, in token that I honour you, and all true Scots who draw their Andrew Ferraras on the right side, sir."

"I'se beholden to you, and thank you, sir," said the young man, with some haughtiness of manner, which hardly corresponded with his rusticity; "and I wuss your health in a ceevil way."

Most judicious persons would have here dropped the conversation; but it was one of Wildrake's marked peculiarities, that he could never let matters stand when they were well. He continued to plague the shy, proud, and awkward lad with his observations. "You speak your national dialect pretty strongly, Master Girnigo," said he, "but I think not quite the language of the gallants that I have known among the Scottish cavaliers— I knew, for example, some of the Gordons, and others of good repute, who always put an ƒ for the wh, as faat for what, fan for when, and the like.”

Albert Lee here interposed, and said that the provinces of Scotland, like those of England, had their different modes of pronunciation."

"You are very right, sir," said Wildrake. "I reckon myself, now, a pretty good speaker of their cursed jargon-no offence, young gentleman; and yet, when I took a turn with some of Montrose's folk, in the South Hielands, as they call their beastly wildernesses, (no offence again,) I chanced to be by myself, and to lose my way, when I said to a shepherd-fellow, making my mouth as wide, and my voice as broad as I could, whore am I ganging till?—confound me if the fellow could answer me, unless, indeed, he was sulky, as the bumpkins will be now and then to the gentlemen of the sword."

This was familiarly spoken, and though partly addressed to Albert, was still more directed to his immediate neighbour, the young Scotsman, who seemed, from bashfulness, or some other reason, rather shy of his intimacy. To one or two personal touches from Wildrake's elbow, administered during his last speech, by way of a practical appeal to him in particular, he only answered, "Misunderstandings were to be expected when men converse in national decalects."

Wildrake, now considerably drunker than he ought to have been in civil company, caught up the phrase, and repeated it :-" Misunderstanding, sir-Misunderstanding, sir?—I do not know how I am to construe that, sir; but to judge from the information of these scratches on your honourable visnomy, I should augur that you had been of late at misunderstanding with the cat, sir."

“You are mistaken, then, friend, for it was with the dowg," answered the Scotsman, dryly, and cast a look towards Albert.

"We had some trouble with the watch-dogs in entering so late in the evening," said Albert, in explanation, "and this youth had a fall among some rubbish, by which he came by these scratches."

"And now, dear Sir Henry," said Dr. Rochecliffe, "allow us to remind you of your gout, and our long journey. I do it the rather that my good friend your son has been, during the whole time of supper, putting questions to me aside, which had much better be reserved till to-morrow-May we therefore ask permission to retire to our night's rest?"

"These private committees in a merry meeting," said Wildrake, “are a solecism in breeding. They always put me in mind of the cursed committees at Westminster.But shall we to roost before we rouse the night-owl with a catch?"

"Aha, canst thou quote Shakspeare?" said Sir Henry, pleased at discovering a new good quality in his acquaintance, whose military services were otherwise but just able to

counterbalance the intrusive freedom of his conversation.

"In the name of merry Will,"

he continued," whom I never saw, though I have seen many of his comrades, as Alleyn, Hemmings, and so on,-we will have a single catch, and one rouse about, and then to bed."

After the usual discussion about the choice of the song, and the parts which each was to bear, they united their voices in trolling a loyal glee, which was popular among the party at the time, and in fact believed to be composed by no less a person than Dr. Rochecliffe himself.

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After this display of loyalty, and a final libation, the party took leave of each other for the night. Sir Henry offered his old acquaintance Wildrake a bed for the evening, who weighed the matter somewhat in this fashion : Why, to speak truth, my patron will expect me at the borough-but then he is used to my staying out of doors a-nights. Then there's the Devil, that they say haunts Woodstock; but with the blessing of this reverend Doctor, I defy him and all his works-I saw him not when I slept here twice before, and I am sure if he was absent then, he has not come back with Sir Henry Lee and his family. So I accept your courtesy, Sir Henry, and I thank you, as a cavalier of Lunsford should thank one of the fighting clerks of Oxon. God bless the King! I care not who hears it, and confusion to Noll and his red nose!" Off he went accordingly with a bottle-swagger, guided by Joceline, to whom Albert, in the meantime, had whispered, to be sure to quarter him far enough from the rest of the family.

Young Lee then saluted his sister, and, with the formality of those times, asked and received his father's blessing with an affectionate embrace. His page seemed desirous to imitate one part of his example, but was repelled by Alice, who only replied to his offered salute with a curtsy. He next bowed his head in an awkward fashion to her father, who wished him a good night. "I am glad to see, young man," he said, "that you have at least learned the reverence due to age. It should always be paid, sir; because in doing so you render that honour to others which you will expect yourself to receive when you approach the close of your life. More will I speak with you at leisure, on your duties as a page, which office in former days used to be the very school of chivalry; whereas of late, by the disorderly times, it has become little better than a school of wild and disordered license; which made rare Ben Jonson exclaim".

"Nay, father," said Albert, interposing, "you must consider this day's fatigue, and the poor lad is almost asleep on his legs-to-morrow he will listen with more profit to your kind admonitions.-And you, Louis, remember at least one part of your dutytake the candles and light us-here Joceline comes to show us the way. good night, good Dr. Rochecliffe-good night, all.”

Once more,

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