While General Wills was arranging his plans for the attack, Sir Henry Hoghton came into his room, and said:
“Acting on a suggestion of your own, general, I have begged the Presbyterian ministers in this neighbourhood-many of whom are well known to me-to induce their congregations to assist me in this struggle against Popery, and I am extremely happy to say I have succeeded-at least, in one instance. The Reverend James Woods, Presbyterian minister of Chowbent, has promptly and energetically responded to my appeal. The worthy man has used such exertions that he has already got together a troop of some forty or fifty active young men. For the most part they are armed with scythes, fixed on straight poles, and bill-hooks, but they are stout active young fellows, and will undoubtedly do good service.”
“Are they here?” inquired Wills.
“They are, general,” replied Sir Henry. “And so is their pastor, the Reverend James Woods.”
“I will see him at once,” replied Wills.
He then went forth with Sir Henry, and in front of the old house, where he had fixed his quarters, he found a large party of stalwart-looking young fellows armed with the weapons described. At their head was a sturdy-looking individual, of middle age, clad in a suit of black, and having a well-powdered wig on his head. Notwithstanding his decidedly clerical appearance, he had a brace of pistols in his belt, and a sword girt by his side.
General Wills could not help smiling when he beheld him. Still he perceived at a glance that the parson would prove serviceable, and he therefore gave him a hearty welcome.
“I am very glad to find, Mr. Woods,” he said, “that you have come to assist the Government at this crisis. Rest assured your conduct will be appreciated in the right quarter.”
“I and a portion of my flock have come to fight for the king, general,” replied the minister. “We will uphold him against a Popish Pretender. We are ready to take any part you may be pleased to assign us, and I promise you the rebels shall meet with a stout resistance from us.”
“They shall,” cried the men, brandishing their scythes and bill-hooks.
“I thankfully accept your offer,” said Wills. “I am sure you promise no more than you will perform. To-morrow morning, at an early hour, I shall march to Preston to give battle to the rebels, and you shall go with me, or rather shall march on before me-so that you can take up a position before I come up. Do you know Penwortham-about two miles below the bridge over the Ribble?”
“I know the place well, general,” replied Woods. “It is on the south bank of the river, which is there fordable.”
“Exactly. It is that ford I wish you to guard. I must tell you that it may become a post of danger, as some of the rebels may attempt to escape that way.”
“I don’t care for danger,” said the valiant pastor; “and I hope I shall take many prisoners.”
“If necessary, a party of men shall be sent to support you,” said Wills.
“I trust we shall not need support, general,” said the pastor, resolutely. “Before the day is over I fancy my followers will have got some better arms than they now possess.”
“Decidedly, you ought to have been a soldier, reverend sir,” observed Wills. “You would have done credit to the profession. Now, will you remain here for the night, or march on with your men to Chorley, so as to have less to do to-morrow?”
“We will adopt the latter course, general,” replied the pastor. “We will halt for the night at a small place called Whittle-in-the-Woods, about six miles from Penwortham. We can take up our post early in the morning. Have you any further orders to give me?”
“None,” replied Wills. “But I hope you will take some refreshment before you set out on your march.”
“All is ready for you,” said Sir Henry Hoghton, advancing. “Come with me and bring your men with you.”
Parson Woods willingly complied with the invitation, and saluting the general in military style, accompanied Sir Henry to the mess-room of the militia, where a substantial repast awaited him and his men.