Montague Beaumont was only 25 years old when he took up the royalist cause once again and followed Charles II in the third English Civil War.
Montague, Monty to
his friends, was a strong man, straight backed and powerful with a square jaw
and long chestnut brown hair and was a natural horseman.
He was not a
soldier either by nature or profession, he was a farmer and content to be so.
But he had lost
his father and brother fighting for Charles the first, so it was only a matter
of time before he joined the fray which he did when he turned 20 and he was
more soldier than farmer for the next five years.
And he was still committed
to the cause when fortunes led to the opposing forces meeting at the Battle of Worcester on the 3rd
of September 1651.
However all did
not go well and the Royalists were forced to retreat into Worcester.
Montague rode for
the Earl of Cleveland’s horse regiment but the Royalists were heavily
outnumbered and although every hedgerow and copse was contested by the stubborn
Royalists, Fleetwood's forces could not be held at bay.
Once in the town,
Charles II removed his armour and found a fresh mount and he attempted to rally
his troops but it was to no avail.
And Cromwell's
eventually repelled, the last desperate attempt of the Royalists forces to break
out of the town.
Inside Worcester,
Beaumont lost his mount in a desperate Royalist cavalry charge down Sidbury
Street and High Street, led by the Earl of Cleveland and Major Careless amongst
others, which allowed King Charles to escape the city by St. Martin's Gate.
After 3 long hours
and all attempts to break out having been repelled and realising all was lost,
Beaumont took the opportunity to make good his own escape, and he changed his
clothes and headed on foot in the Kings wake.
As darkness came
on and the defences of the city were stormed from three sides.
Victory went to
the parliamentarians and most of the few thousand Royalists who escaped during
the night were easily captured.
Only a handful
evaded capture, Charles II escaped, after many adventures, including one famous
incident where he hid from a Parliamentarian patrol in an oak tree in the grounds
of Boscobel House but eventually he reached the safety of France.
With Charles out
of reach of Cromwell’s clutches, and with Derby condemned to death, Beaumont
became his highest priority.
Montague knew that
if he was caught he would meet the same fate as the Earl of Derby who was
executed after Worcester,
Best case he could
expect was to be deported to New England, or the West Indies to work for landowners
as indentured labour.
Neither option
appealed to him.
On the 16th
of October, about the time Charles II was landing in Normandy, Montague arrived
in Downshire on the back of a farm cart.
There were still
Royalist sympathizers to be found, if you knew where to look and how to read
the signs but there were also enemies everywhere.
So he worked his
way across the county from village to village and farm to farm, on the lookout
for friends and all the while being wary of spies.
It was his
intention to work his way through the county to the coast at Sharpington or
Pepperstock Bay and then take a boat across the channel to join his King in
France.
But in early
November he was discovered while staying in Childean with a Cavalier family and
he had to fight his way out, his host Richard was killed in the skirmish while
he killed two of the Roundheads and made his escape on one of their horses with
the rest of the troop of roundheads in hot pursuit.
His only hope to
evade capture was to reach the sanctuary of the Dancingdean Forest.
His stolen mount
carried him to the outskirts of Shallowfield before its legs collapsed beneath
it and it threw him.
He lay winded in
the grass and could so easily have stayed there but he was made of stronger
stuff.
For two months
following the Battle of Worcester he had been fleeing the parliamentarian
forces and he was completely exhausted but he was not prepared for death or
deportation so he picked himself up and ran flat out for the tree line and he
hoped freedom.
Montague was not
restricted by riding boots, helmets or breastplates so once he was in the
forest he was hoping to give them the slip, as the leather jackets would not
find it easygoing chasing him down.
He reached the
trees but after ten minutes despite their handicap they were giving good chase
as the effects of two months on the run had left him fatigued and they were
closing in on him.
Montague could
hear them behind him clearer and clearer, yard by yard, calling loudly to each other
as they crashed through the forest and ahead of him there was the sound of
rushing water.
It was a cold day
but he was sweating profusely with the exertion as he reached the waterfall.
He moved upstream
about 20 yards until he found an easier place to cross but he couldn’t dwell to
long as the Leather Jackets were hot on his heels.
“This way” he
heard one of his pursuers call when he was half way across and he lost his
footing and ended up knee deep in freezing water.
Montague waded to
the other side and clambered out, two steps later her was down again and this
time as he got back to his feet he ripped the buckle off one of his shoes.
He didn’t notice
nor hesitate though and set off at a run, a few minutes later he paused briefly
by a great oak.
“Oiy” a voice
called in a hoarse whisper
He looked around
but could see nothing and so prepared to run again
“Up hear” the
hoarse whispering voice said
He looked up and
could see nothing above him but the autumn canopy.
“Hear” the voice
repeated
And then he saw
her, a young woman about his age, give or take a year or two with a mass of
unruly red hair and vivid green eyes looking down at him.
She threw down a
rope of sorts, made from grass and ivy vines.
“Quick” she urged
him.
So he quickly
climbed up the rope the ten feet or so to where she was, and she quickly raised
the makeshift rope again.
“Thank you” he
said and settled down in the hollow crook between the oak boughs.
“Hush” she retorted
and settled down beside him and they sat in silence as his Leather Jacket
pursuers were crossing the falls and by the commotion and the cursing it was
obvious than more than one of them fell into the water as he had done.
A lot of cursing
followed along with pledges to make sure he paid in pain for their discomfiture.
“He came this way”
one of them called “he lost a shoe buckle”
“Damn” Montague
said as he looked at his boots
“Quiet” the wild
looking young woman said and punched him
“Ouch” he muttered
and rubbed his sore arm.
Looking at her he
wouldn’t have expected her to hit so hard.
She was only a small
thing and was all skin and bone but it turned out she was as strong as an ox.
The Roundheads
blundered about for another hour or so searching for him, until darkness began
to fall and they wandered off back towards Shallowfield.
They crossed the
falls again on their return and there were more splashes and curses.
When he couldn’t
hear them anymore Montague got up to leave.
“No not yet” she
said “wait for your eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness”
He thought for a moment
and realizing the logic of her words he sat down again.
“My name is
Montague Beaumont” he said “My friends call me Monty”
“I’m Bessie” she
said “Bessie Goodwin, they call me wild Bess”
Bess was a local
woodsman’s daughter who all but lived alone in a shack in the woods and was
thought by most people to have gone feral.
She wore breeches
and boots and hunted the woods like it was her larder.
After about
fifteen minutes Bess said they could safely climb down from the oak.
Despite the fact
his eyes had grown accustomed to the
light Montague was completely disoriented and had it not been for Bess he would
have wandered in the wrong direction and straight into the clutches of the
parliamentarians.
“This way soldier
boy” she said and headed off into the dark.
“Ok wait for me”
he said and rushed after her.
Half an hour later
they arrived at her ramshackle shack which though not stylish was warm, dry and
well provisioned.
After a hot meal
of a stew of unspecified meat beside a warm fire he was in no hurry to get on
his way again, so he asked
“Could I stay here
for a day or two until I get my strength back?”
“Ok just for a day
or two” she agreed
He stayed with her
for 9 years until Charles II returned to England and Montague once more stood
at his side and was with him when he was restored to the throne and as a reward
for his loyalty he was granted the Earldom of Dancingdean and his wife became
Lady Bess.
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