The Gold that Glitters | Page 3

was a hopeless one. The great battle of Worcester, which
ended the long conflict, had been fought about three weeks before, and

the young King had only just escaped with his life, through the bravery
of his gallant troops, who made a desperate stand in the street, keeping
the victors at bay while their commander fled to a place of
concealment.
The Cavaliers, as Charles's troops were called, had few virtues beyond
their loyalty and courage. After their dispersion at Worcester, they
spread over the country in small parties, begging, stealing, or
committing open ravages. Many of the Parliamentary troops--not all--
were grave, sensible, God-fearing men, who were only concerned to do
what they believed was right and righteous. Much fewer of the
Cavaliers had any such aim, beyond their devotion to the monarchy,
and their enthusiastic determination to uphold it. They were mostly gay,
rollicking fellows, with little principle, and less steadfastness, who
squandered their money on folly, if nothing worse; and then helped
themselves to other people's goods without any uneasiness of
conscience.
Colonel Lane was a Cavalier, and devoted to the King, and most of his
tenants were Cavaliers also. A few were Roundheads--staunch
adherents of the Parliament; and a few more had no very strong
convictions on either side, and while they chiefly preferred the
monarchy, would have been content with any settlement which allowed
them to live honest and peaceable lives. Old Mrs Lavender belonged to
this last class. If asked which side she was on, she would have said,
"For the King"; but in her heart she had no enmity to either. Her son
was a warmer politician; Jenny, being sixteen, was a much warmer still,
and as Robin Featherstone, her hero, was a Cavalier, so of course was
she.
We have given the worthy farmer and his family a good while to sit
down to supper, which that night included a kettle of furmety, a
mermaid pie, and a taffaty tart. What were they? A very reasonable
question, especially as to the mermaid pie, since mermaids are rather
scarce articles in the market. Well, a mermaid pie was made of pork
and eels, and was terribly rich and indigestible; a taffaty tart was an
apple-pie, seasoned with lemon-peel and fennel-seed; and the receipt

for furmety--a very famous and favourite dish with our forefathers--I
give as it stands in a curious little book, entitled, The Compleat Cook,
printed in 1683.
"Take a quart of cream, a quarter of a pound of French barley, the
whitest you can get, and boyl it very tender in three or four several
waters, and let it be cold; then put both together. Put into it a blade of
mace, a nutmeg cut in quarters, a race of ginger cut in four or five
pieces, and so let it boyl a good while, still stirring, and season it with
sugar to your taste; then take the yolks of four eggs, and beat them with
a little cream, and stir them into it, and so let it boyl a little after the
eggs are in: then have ready blanched and beaten twenty almonds (kept
from oyling), with a little rosewater; then take a boulter strainer, and
rub your almonds with a little of your furmety through the strainer, but
set on the fire no more: and stir in a little salt, and a little sliced nutmeg,
pickt out of the great pieces of it, and put it in a dish, and serve it."
The farmhouse family consisted only of Farmer Lavender, his mother,
and his two daughters, Kate and Jenny. But fifteen people sat down to
supper: for the whole household, including the farmer's men down to
the little lad who scared the crows, all ate together in the big kitchen.
Mrs Lavender sat at the head of the table, the farmer at the other end,
with Jenny on his right hand: for there was in the father's heart a very
warm place for his motherless Jenny.
"All ready to set forth, my lass?" he said gently--perhaps a little sadly.
"Yes, Father, all ready."
"Art thou glad to go, child?"
"I'd like well to see the world, Father."
"Well, well! I mind the time when I'd ha' been pleased enough to have
thy chance, my lass. Be a good girl, and forget not the good ways thy
grandmother has learned thee, and then I cast no doubt thou'lt do well."
Jenny assented with apparent meekness, inwardly purposing to forget
them as fast as she could. She ran into the garden when supper was

over, to gather a nosegay, if possible, of the few flowers left at that time
of year. She was just tucking a bit of southernwood into her bodice,
when a voice on the other side of the hedge said softly,--