Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1875-04-22
tination of him who figures in this tale as

her, he kisses her cheek, wet with tears,
and to her gently speaks. II
| ''Do not weep Bertie," he says God
willing, my absence will not be for long,
and our love will be none the less though
separated from each other, and away. from
each others sight. AS we have regarded
each other from childhood, with never
ceasing love, so, trust, our affection will
never grow less, though distance wide in
| tervenes between US"
| The maiden attempts to speak, but her
sobs prevent her. With final kiss upon
his loved ones lips, and the last tender
adieus to his aged grandparents rendered.
our hero hastens from the cottage to Join
the forces of Oliver Cromwell.
A short distance from the habitation
lately left, and the travelling youth falls in
with band of rustics, similar to those be-
fore referred to, consisting of about thirty
or forty clamorous men, ranging from
youth to middle age. The greater part Of
| these carried huge cudgels in their hands,
| a few were armed with spears, many with
the tools employed in cultivating the land,
| while still some were destitute of any
weapons whatever.
Our hero is soon surrounded by the
noisy band, while one, fantastically
dressed. as spokesman for the others,
| speaks to him.
"Whither away, my lad?' he says.
But, marry. thy dress speaks well for
thee. Come join our ranks, my hearty;
no time for lettering, for this bonny crew
must soon be ranked with the goodly num-
bers of brave old Noll.'' (Noll was the
familiar appelation appliedto Cromwell.)
Then the clamorous crowd join in singing
| "Awav tn NolI awav to Nou
| Away to Noll Wen GO;
So don the gear, and bring the spear,
| The cudgel and the hoe"
| till the dying notes are lost in the rugged
hills which line the way.
| Then another of the company, young
man, speaks: MY fellows, know ye not
this lad? 'Tis James Vane. the son of
brave old Henry, who was lover of his
people. If his blood be like his fathers,
no Drawer one is among US, Art not, my
lad. whom have said ?"
James answering the question addressed
to him, in the affirmative, the noisy crowd
moves on, shouting and singing. till Wor-
cester, the encampment of Cromwell's ar
my. is reached.
The encampment of the renowned lead
er's army was upon q wide plain, a few
miles from the heart of the city. After
the battle of Worcester, Cromwell had
Withdrawn his forces to this locality, to
await further movements of the royal
troops. But Prince Charles's army had
been SO completely worsted, that
Cromwell did not apprehend, at present,
another engagement, so, stationed at this
place, he sent detachments Of his army to
scour the country round about in hopes of
capturing Prince Charles, who was sus-
1 tod !, ('eAt,, To hn horh in,
one of the royal habitations, which, in this
locality, were numerous.
AS soon as the band, which contained
our hero, entered the camp, it was report
ed to Cromwell, who, soon after, present
ed himself before it.
Oddly, but plainly dressed, in an unbe-
coming costume. the great general pre-
sented Il strange and uncouth appearance.
| His frame was well built and of large
stature. but extreme awkwardness char
acterized his movements. His counte-
nance was red and swollen, and his large
eyes dull and destitute of all beauty. In
4 harsh. untunable voice, without the
least expression on his hard countenance,
he welcomed the band in a few words,
which were impossible to be understood
| by those to whom they were addressed, so
ambiguous were the forms of expression
in which he clothed his sentences. Then,
having made suitable provisions for the
welfare of the new recruits, Cromwell
shuflles off to his own private tent, and the
encampment, which, at the arrival of our
company, presented a very animated ap-
pearance, assumes u comparatively tran
quill condition.
Meanwhile, the maiden, Bertha Stan
wood by name, whom we left lamenting
the departure of him she loved, and who
by reason OF her fond attachment to our
hero justly deserves the title of "our hero
ine," has left the cottage where we first
found her, and repaired to her own hum
BILE habitaton, perhaps distant half mile
from the home of her lover.
As she entered the principal room of the
dwelling, a middle-aged man. rough and
homely in appearance, who was the only
parent of our heroine, sat by the fire place
smoking pipe oftobacco. He, in rough
voice, and unkind manner, speaks to her.
"What, lass, hast thou again been at
the house of that young rebelP Didst
not warn thee never to meet him more?
Why. girl, he is the son of one OF the bas-
est rebels that ever took weapon against
the King"
"But, nterposes Bertha, II love him;
| ahu iouel VI ioS al e"NJeet' ny Ao'o e''A w
none the less"
Love him girl love him exclaims
the enraged parent land dare ye tell thy
father this? Love vile traitor! villain
who has received the bare spirit of disloyal-
tv from his notorious father, and who, If
power was at hand, would crush the law
ful moparch, who, though at present a
fugitive, will soon be seated ON his right
ful throne, and again mighty Stuart will
control the affairs of glorious old Eng
] land -
The speaker had become excited with
the repetition of his last words and pauses
a few moments: then he continues, more
gently:
but, my daughter, ye can not, must
not thing more OF him. He thinks not OF
thyself, with pure affection so forget. girl.
forget him.
"Father, talk not so OF him--no purer
| Iowa avar axisted than ours and raupot