The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1839-05-24 00:00:00

AN ADVENTURE OF CHARLES THE SECOND,

(From the Court Gazette.)
There is not in the British isles a fairer valley than the
Vale of Dolgelley, nor one that combines sweetness and
magnificence in such perfect and varied beauty. Its green
banks slope verdantly to the river-side, fringed with trees
and watered by sparkling strearnlets ; higher up, Cader-Idris
and a chain of lesser mountains point their grey summits,
bold and bare, to the sky; Snowdon peeps through many a
vista ; and half-way down the valley there is a beautiful
meeting of the waters of two clear rivers that, uniting into a
lake-like stream, glide smoothly onward to the Irish sea.
Thick woods, noble country seats, and smiling cottages,
sheltered and shadowed by many a sunny hill, blend their
beauty with the dark rock, the scathed pine, and the healthy
mountain-side ; while the ever-changing light and shadow,
the varied colours and the light haze resting on the park,
or floating dreamily in the very centre of the valley, present
a picture which few who have gazed upon will forget, or
scruple to affirm with us, that among the hundred valleys of
our happy isles there is not a nobler or a fairer one than the
Vale of Dolgelley. And when the royal eye of her who rules
them glances over our pages, she will not fail to remember
the sweet summer evenings when, straying by the romantic
shores of Beaumaris, she has seen the dusky cloud-like peak
of Snowdon, as it rose far in the distance, over the quiet
waters of the bay. And long on those shores will she be
remembered : the village maiden that dropped a curtsy, and
the grey-haired man that made his humble reverence to the
lovely girl, the future Queen of England, and whose simple
hearts were gladdened by her smile, often point out the spots
she visited, the mossy stone she has sat upon, and the sce-
nery with which she was pleased and familiar, when, far
from the splendour of courts, she dwelt among the quiet
glades of their mountain land.
Such, indeed, is the Vale of Dolgelley when the sun is
shining on its waters, and brightening the verdure of its
banks ; but when the storm sweeps from the hills, and to
L the darkness of night is added the gloomy shadow of the
, mountain—when every stream becomes a torrent, and min-
gles its roar with the long howls of the blast—when the va-
poury clouds hang in blackness, and shroud not only the
stars, but the twinkling cottage-light, there are few places
which create such feelings of dreariness and desolation.
It was even in such a night that a single horseman urged
his strong black steed along the rough pathway that formed
the mountain pass—now clattering upon the smooth-worn
, rock—now snorting and plunging up to the saddle-girth in
the splashing stream—and again aided and urged by hand
and spur, toiling up the rugged bank, and then bounding
forward with unabated vigour over the broken heath, in the
direction of the more level country that stretches to the
plains of Shropshire.
" What, ho ! sir stranger !" cried a deep-toned voice, as
the stout steed, extricating himself by a violent effort from
a swamp, was again moving forward. " What, ho ! sir
stranger, whither so fast ?" repeated the voice, as three men
well mounted issued from the shadow of some scattered
trees, and joined the traveller, who at the second challenge
reined up his steed, and laid his hand upon his holsters.
" Who be ye that inquire ?" he demanded ; " I have small
time or pleasure to answer greetings that bode me hindrance."
The party who addressed him gave a loud laugh. "By
Becket 's bones, fair sir, ye speak as though it were a matter
of thine own choice to answer us or no."
" Ay, marry, and so it is. Nay, friend, handle not my
bridle," said the horseman, drawing a pistol from his saddle.
" Hold, hold !" cried the other speaker • " an' ye be wise,
trifle not with such trinkets as these. Put up thy pistol,
and thou shalt know thy company."
" Nay, by heaven ! it were more fitting that I knew my
company ere I parted with my weapons. Trust me, I have
right good will to use them, were it but to repay thee for thy
sauciness."
" By my faith I doubt it not, for thou seemest a cock of
game. But thou art in better company than thou couldst
have bargained for. Here at my side rides the worthy and
worshipful Obedego Strong-in-faith, captain of certain pious
dragoons in the service of the state ; and to his left is the
devout Zacharius Trust-in-good-works, an officer in the same
troop, marvellous and edifying disputants, as thou mayest
have an opportunity of hearing. For myself, I am known
by the carnal name of Richard Scampgrace, and am also an
officer in the army of the parliament. Now who or what art
thou in the devil's name ?
" A soldier of fortune, and an adherent of the King."
" A long-haired cavalier : be it so. And whither art thou
bound ?"
" To the castle of Sir David Tudor."
" That thou canst not reach to-night. You have many a
long mile to ride, and your steed pants and moves but dully.
What say ye to passing the night at yonder hostelry where
you see the light ?"
The other paused ere he replied • and as he hesitated, one
of his companions wheeled from the left, bringing his horse
round to the other side—a movement that passed not unob-
served by the cavalier; and, with a somewhat sorry grace,
he declared his willingness to visit the hostelry.
It was a long, low building, strongly formed of rough un-
dressed stone. Its porch had loop-holes for musketry ; its
windows were protected by strong bars of iron ; an angry
streamlet, gushing over loose and broken stones, which it
had torn from the mountain above, formed a deep moat
round the building ; and, to add to its martial character, the
party had no sooner crossed a rustic bridge, than they were
challenged by a guard of soldiers. The cavalier at this could
not conceal his uneasiness. "By our Lady ! comrades of
mine," said he, " ye have brought me to a fortalice instead
of a hostelry."
" It is in truth somewhat of both, and as occasion requires
serves for either ; but that little recketh ; thou shalt find
good entertainment, and thy steed shall be cared for."
It was now too late to retract, and the cavalier dismount-
ing, and giving his horse to a groom, entered the building
followed by his companions. A large fire was blazing on the
hearth, huge waxen tapers stood upon the board, and the
drowsy soldiers that occupied the benches glanced listlessly
at the cavalier. The light showed him to be a young man
of middle age, but strongly and gracefully built ; his features
were plain, but animated by a keen and bright eye that told
of the gallant wrecklessness of the royal adherents, and his
long raven hair, sparkling with night dew, as it curled over
his shoulders, added a grace and beauty to his whole appear-
ance. He had no sooner seated himself, than Scampgrace
again addressed him.
" Sir Cavalier," said he, " you must even give us up your
papers and arms, but when Major Holdenburgh returns,
and is satisfied with thee and thine errand, in the morning
thou mavest depart without further question."
" By St. George of England!" cried the cavalier, starting
to his feet, " this is but churlish courtesy. Ye have invited
me hither, and now—"
" Small words will suffice," replied the other. "We
have orders to guard the mountain passes, and to arrest all
suspicious persons. So give up thy papers and weapons at
once, and save us the trouble of taking them by rougher
means."
The eyes of the cavalier flashed with anger at the cool,
determined manner of the Roundhead, and he seemed as
if disposed forcibly to effect his retreat ; but a moment's
reflection showed him the madness of such an attempt, and,
unbuckling his belt, he flung his sword on the table, threw
down his pistols, and declaring he had no papers to submit,
gloomily resumed his seat.
There was something in the air of the youth that repelled
closer communion with his captors, and made them reluc-
tant—they knew not why—to come to extremities : they
forebore, therefore, to search or lay hands upon him, but, in
a more respectful tone, invited him to partake of a cheer
which had just been laid upon the board. The wither wil-
lingly complied ; and while the soldiers were thus engaged,
he took the opportunity of glancing carefully round the
room, to examine the features of his entertainers. These,
however, presented no peculiar marks, beyond the usual dull-
ness and gravity which characterised Cromwell's troops ; and
he was giving up the scrutiny, satisfied with the result, when
his eyes were arrested by the piercing glance of those of a
soldier who, wrapped in his cloak, and seated in a distant
corner, had, unobserved, been regarding him for some time
with fixed attention. Just at that instant the door opened,
and a beautiful girl entered with a fresh supply of wine. The
soldier quickly removed his eyes from the cavalier, and
looked eagerly towards the maiden as she approached the
table.

" Ah !" cried Scampgrace, " here comes the daughter of
our host, fair Ellen Wynne, and I warrant for no other
object but to see the young cavalier ; for well I wot, Ellen,
thou comest but rarely among us."
She blushed at the words, and the cavalier, dashing his
heavy locks from his brow, gazed with admiration on the
maiden before him. Long tresses of auburn fell in silken
luxuriance over her tight bodice—her hazel eyes brightened
with her smile, the lurking sweetness of which played around
her lips, that, parting, showed teeth of pearly whiteness—
her light and graceful figure—the fawn-like timidity of her
approach, and the look of interest which she gave the young
stranger might have aroused the attention of a more apa-
thetic gallant than he.
" By mine honour, comrade," cried he, " you spoke well
in saying that the daughter of our host was fair. Wilt thou
pledge me, my pretty maiden I—for, on a soldier's word, I
have never had such a cup-bearer before."
The maiden touched the goblet with her lips, and the
youth, raising it in his hand, exclaimed—" I drink to thee,
fair Ellen, and good, leal, and true may he be who kneels at
the altar with such a bride." Then, draining the cup, threw
it down—" Thou wilt not refuse a knightly boon nor cour-
tesy." added he, rising from his seat, and drawing a spark-
ling ring from his finger, which he placed on that of the
blushing girl—and then, with the customary gallantry of the
times, drew her towards him and kissed her cheek. But he
had whispered something in Ellen's ear, that drove the blood
from her face, and she stood as if petrified. Her eye glanced
wildly round the room, until it met the keen look of the dark
soldier in the corner ; the blood again rushed over her cheek
and brow, and she hastily glided from the apartment.
The din of revelry was over in the hostelry—the soldiers
slumbered on the benches—and the prisoner sat alone in the
narrow chamber in which his humble pallet had been spread.
The dull tread of the guard—the howl of the blast and the
roar of the mountain torrent fell cheerless on his ear—the
sickly flame of the lamp seemed like the waning of hope, and
the loneliness of the hour added melancholy to his musings.
" Fool that I was," he exclaimed bitterly, " to have left
the open heath for this paltry prison-house, where I be at
the mercy of my deadliest enemies. Would to God I had
my good steed once more under me, and the sword in my
grasp, these prick-eared dogs would hardly again wile me
into their lure. Fool! fool! that I was, he repeated, as,
chafing like a prisoned tiger, he hurriedly paced the apart-
ment. A light step was heard approaching—the cavalier
suddenly paused—immediately the door of his apartment was
cautiously opened, and Ellen Wynne, pale and agitated, and
bearing a small lamp, glided noiselessly to his side. Her
long hair hung dishevelled over her heaving bosom—her eyes
were glistening with tears, and her hands trembled as she
placed the lamp upon the hearth.
" My fair Ellen," cried the cavalier, a flash of joy bright.
ening his features, " I knew thou would'st not betray me."
" Betray thee !" cried the maiden, clasping her hands,
" never, never ! but alas ! to aid thee exceeds my power."
" Say not so," replied the cavalier, " the eyes, my pretty
Ellen, that can break hearts, can also undo iron bars. Is
there no soldier of the guard who calls himself the lover of
Ellen Wynne ?"
The maiden blushed at the question, but replied, without
hesitation—" There is even such an one, but him I dare not
trust ; and yet," continued she in a musing tone, " there
was a time when right blithely I would have trusted• Ralph
Lloyd, but he is altered now. He forsook the banners of Sir
David Tudor to join the army of Cromwell ; and if he knew
the rank of his prisoner, the reward they have put upon your
head would tempt him.to betray spu."
" And wherefore did he 'change his pitti, and. why may .