lined the market-place three deep from the
Castle gate to the entrance to the High Street; from thence to Shuttern,
Dorsetshire, and Frome peasants were drawn up on either side of the
street; while our own regiment was stationed at the western gate. With
arms well burnished, serried ranks, and fresh sprigs of green in every
bonnet, no leader could desire a better addition to his army. When
all were in their places, and the burghers and their wives had arrayed
themselves in their holiday gear, with gladsome faces and baskets of
new-cut flowers, all was ready for the royal visitor's reception.

'My orders are,' said Saxon, riding up to us as we sat our horses reside
our companions, 'that I and my captains should fall in with the King's
escort as he passes, and so accompany him to the market-place. Your men
shall present arms, and shall then stand their ground until we return.'

We all three drew our swords and saluted.

'If ye will come with me, gentlemen, and take position to the right of
the gate here,' said he, 'I may be able to tell ye something of these
folk as they pass. Thirty years of war in many climes should give me the
master craftsman's right to expound to his apprentices.'

We all very gladly followed his advice, and passed out through the gate,
which was now nothing more than a broad gap amongst the mounds which
marked the lines of the old walls. 'There is no sign of them yet,' I
remarked, as we pulled up upon a convenient hillock. 'I suppose that
they must come by this road which winds through the valley before us.'

'There are two sorts of bad general,' quoth Saxon, 'the man who is too
fast and the man who is too slow. His Majesty's advisers will never be
accused of the former failing, whatever other mistakes they may fall
into. There was old Marshal Grunberg, with whom I did twenty-six months'
soldiering in Bohemia. He would fly through the country pell-mell,
horse, foot, and artillery, as if the devil were at his heels. He might
make fifty blunders, but the enemy had never time to take advantage. I
call to mind a raid which we made into Silesia, when, after two days or
so of mountain roads, his Oberhauptmann of the staff told him that it
was impossible for the artillery to keep up. "Lass es hinter!" says he.
So the guns were left, and by the evening of the next day the foot were
dead-beat. "They cannot walk another mile!" says the Oberhauptmann.
"Lassen Sie hinter!" says he. So on we went with the ho