Hayslope Grange

Hayslope Grange, by Emma
Leslie

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Title: Hayslope Grange A Tale of the Civil War
Author: Emma Leslie
Release Date: August 28, 2006 [EBook #19136]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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HAYSLOPE GRANGE
A TALE OF THE CIVIL WAR

BY EMMA LESLIE
AUTHOR OF "THE CAPTIVES," "CONSTANCIA'S
HOUSEHOLD," "THE ORPHAN AND FOUNDLING."
LONDON: Sunday School Union. 56, OLD BAILEY THOS.
NELSON & SONS, 42, BLEECKER ST., NEW YORK
THE GRESHAM PRESS LONDON & CHILWORTH
UNWIN BROTHERS, PRINTERS BY WATER TOWER.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
THE DRURY FAMILY

CHAPTER II.
HARRY'S ANNOUNCEMENT

CHAPTER III.
TRAITOR OR HERO

CHAPTER IV.
CROMWELL'S IRONSIDES

CHAPTER V.
MAUD HARCOURT

CHAPTER VI.
THE HAYSLOPE

CHAPTER VII.
THE REVEL

CHAPTER VIII.
BESSIE'S DISTRESS

CHAPTER IX.
THE WOUNDED MESSENGER

CHAPTER X.
"ON, CAVALIER, ON!"

CHAPTER XI.
MYSTERIES

CHAPTER XII.
HARRY'S RETURN

CHAPTER I.
THE DRURY FAMILY.
It was a sweet spring day, soft and balmy as summer, and any one
looking across the green meadows and smiling uplands of Hayslope,
now so full of the promise of early fruitfulness, would have wondered
what could make the farm-labourers appear so gloomy, and the
women-folk sigh instead of singing at their work, if he knew nothing of
what was going on a few miles away.
It was the year 1644, and for two long years civil war had been raging
in England, and now two rival Parliaments were sitting, the one
presided over by the King meeting at Oxford, while that in London was
engaged upon the trial of Archbishop Laud, and levying war against the
King, so that it was not to be wondered at that men looked gloomy and
sorrowful, for they were dark, sad times for everybody.
Hayslope was a little village on the borders of Essex, but quite out of
the high road usually taken by travellers going from London northward,
so that when a young man came riding in towards the middle of the day,
everybody turned from their work to look at him. They did not make a
very close inspection before they raised their hats and cheered; but this
greeting, pleasant as it was, scarcely brought a smile to his lips as he
rode on up to the principal house in the place--Hayslope Grange. This
was a large, rambling, roomy building, half farm-house, half mansion,

standing in the midst of an old-fashioned garden, surrounded by fields,
and enclosed with a moat. The moat was dry now, and had been for
some years, and a permanent bridge of planks had been laid across,
leading to the village; Master Drury would not have it filled up. "It
might be useful yet," he would say, when his son Harry pressed him to
make the alteration.
As the traveller reached the old moss-grown bridge he paused for a
minute or two, and looked down at the broad deep trench. "God grant it
never may be wanted," he murmured; and then he threw back his long
brown curls that clustered round his head, and spurred his horse on at a
quicker pace. He was a fine, tall, handsome young man, about
twenty-two, with a thoughtful brow that would have made him look
almost stern, but for the genial smile that played around his mouth, and
the kindly eyes that looked as ready to cry as a girl's at a tale of
suffering. Before he was half-way across the fields he was met with the
glad cry of, "Harry, Harry, I am so glad you have come home!"
That he was a general favourite at home was evident enough, for his
younger sister and brother received him with screams of delight, and
his elder sister, Mary, forgot all her stateliness in the warmth of her
welcome. Only one of the group walking in the fields failed to run
forward to meet him--a fact Harry was not slow to notice.
"So Maud would not come to greet me," he said, holding out his hand
when he reached the spot where she was standing. He had sprung from
his horse, and left the animal to find his own way to the stable.
The young lady coloured and looked down as Harry stopped before her.
"I am very glad to see you," she said.
"But not quite so glad as my sisters here," said Harry.