The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth
Page 753
The hearse and the coach then quitted Tower Hill, and were driven slowly to Dagenham Park.
But the headsman had only half finished his task.
When fresh sawdust had been strewn on the gory scaffold, another head — that of Lord Kenmure — was fitted to the block, and the axe again fell.
CHAPTER IV
What happened in the Chapel at Dagenham Park
NOT till the second night after the earl’s body had been brought to Dagenham Park did the countess commence her journey to Dilston.
During the interval the coffin was placed upon a catafalque in the chapel attached to the mansion, and tapers were lighted around it — masses being said for the repose of the soul of the departed by Father Norman.
The head had now been replaced by the body, but the countess would not allow the coffin to be closed, and at night she was left alone in the chapel.
After praying for some time she arose and gazing at her dead lord, invoked him either to appear to her, or give her some sign that he was conscious of her presence.
But the pale features retained their fixed expression.
After awhile, she sat down, and despite all her efforts to resist it, sleep stole over her.
Then she dreamed that the earl stood beside her, looking as he had done in life.
After contemplating her for a few minutes with a look that seemed to fascinate her he said in low solemn accents:
“Weep no more for me, Anna! weep no more! my suffering is over. But let my last wishes be fulfilled. Till my body is laid where I have desired my spirit will wander near its earthly tabernacle. Then it will rest.”
“Give me some token that I have really beheld you, my lord,” she said.
“Look at my right hand, and you will be satisfied,” was the reply.
Thereupon the phantom vanished.
Not for some hours could she rouse herself from the heavy slumber into which she had fallen. She then recalled the vision, but thought it must have been a dream.
To convince herself of the truth she went to the coffin, and raised the right hand of the corpse.
On one of the fingers was a ring which she had not observed before. Removing it, she placed it on her own finger.
Reluctant to allude to the mysterious occurrence, she did not even mention it to Father Norman.
Next day she was joined by Dorothy Forster, who desired to accompany her to Dilston.
CHAPTER V
The Journey to Dilston
AT the head of the funeral procession rode the faithful Newbiggin.
Then followed the hearse drawn by four horses, with the coachman and two assistants, and lastly came the countess in a carriage likewise drawn by four horses. With her were Dorothy Forster and Father Norman.
The night was dark on which they set forth, and they tracked many weary miles through country roads, making slow progress, but meeting with no hindrance, till towards dawn, they halted at a large mansion near Chelmsford belonging to a Roman Catholic gentleman, where they halted and remained during the day — the coffin being removed from the hearse, and placed in a small private chapel, where tapers were lighted, and masses said as at Dagenham.
Here the day was passed.
On the second night, they proceeded to Cambridge — and on the third to a mansion near Saint Ives, in Huntingdonshire.
Thence they moved on to Peterborough.
In this manner they pursued the road towards Newcastle, journeying entirely by night, and halting during the day at some Roman Catholic mansion, where hospitality was afforded them, and where religious rites could be performed.
It was a long, long journey. But the countess did not find it wearisome. Rather she grieved to think it must soon be ended.
She derived great solace from the affectionate companionship of Dorothy Forster.
Seven nights had thus been passed in travel, and they were proceeding on the eighth night from Thirsk towards Darlington, when a horseman rode up to the carriage.
At first his appearance caused alarm, but fear quickly gave way to surprise when they found it was Charles Radclyffe. They knew he had escaped from prison, but supposed he was in France.
He entered into no explanation then, but contented himself with saying that he should accompany them to Dilston, and rode on with Newbiggin.
At Darlington he had a private interview with Dorothy, and told her that he could not leave England without seeing her again, and besought her to accompany him in his flight.
“This is not the moment to urge my suit,” he said; “but I have no option. Will you fly with me? Will you embrace the fortunes of a ruined man?”
“I cannot decide now,” she replied. “You shall have an answer at Dilston.”
From her grave manner Charles had very little hope of a favourable response.
The journey occupied two more nights, but on the third morning, they came in sight of Dilston.
Newbiggin had ridden on to prepare the household, and Charles Radclyffe did not think it safe to accompany the procession, though fully intending to be present at the interment.
CHAPTER VI
The Interment
THOUGH it was known that the earl’s estates were forfeited, the confiscation had not yet taken place, and, consequently, the household still remained at Dilston.
Ever since the execution they had been filled with superstitious dread.
On the evening of that terrible day, most remarkable Northern Lights were seen, and the reflection of the crimson sky seemed to turn the water of the brook in the haunted glen to blood.
Next day, a violent tempest occurred, accompanied by thunder and lightning.
Several trees were blown down, and the finest oak in the park was struck — the trunk being completely shattered.
All the household was now assembled to watch the funeral procession as it made its way slowly up the avenue.
Groans and lamentations were heard when the hearse arrived at the gate, and the coffin was taken out, and conveyed to the little chapel.
Not till this had been done did the countess and Dorothy enter the mansion.
Completely prostrated, they strove to prepare themselves for the closing ceremonial that was to take place at midnight.
A doleful place was Dilston during that day. Its inmates were bowed down with grief, and moved about like ghosts.
All needful preparations for the interment were made by Newbiggin.
The vault was opened. The coffin was laid upon a bier not far from the altar, and tapers were lighted around it.
Many of the old servants and dependents, among whom were Nicholas Ribbleton and Nathan Blacklaw, went to the chapel to pray beside the body of their lord.
Not till night did Charles Radclyffe appear at the castle.
He sought out Dorothy and said to her:
“I shall quit Dilston immediately after the interment. Will you go with me?”
“I cannot leave Lady Derwentwater,” she replied.
Nothing more was said.
At midnight the little chapel was filled with the late earl’s retainers.
The countess and Dorothy knelt in front of the altar, and Charles Radclyffe and Newbiggin were stationed near the coffin.
The solemn service was performed by Father Norman, and amid the tears of all present the last Lord of Derwentwater was laid with his ancestors.
Tantum valet Amor Regis et Patriae.
THE END
THE LEAGUER OF LATHOM
CONTENTS
BOOK I. — THE SIEGE OF MANCHESTER
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
C
HAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
BOOK II. — CHARLOTTE DE LA TRÉMOILLE, COUNTESS OF DERBY
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
BOOK III. — THE STORMING OF LANCASTER
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
BOOK IV. — THE SURRENDER OF WARRINGTON
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
BOOK V. — THE BELEAGUERED MANSION
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
BOOK VI. — PRINCE RUPERT
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
BOOK VII. — THE STORMING OF BOLTON
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
BOOK VIII. — SEVEN YEARS LATER
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
INSCRIBED
TO
THE REV. F. R. RAINES, M.A., F.S.A.,
HON. CANON OF MANCHESTER,
RECTOR OF MILNROW, AND RURAL DEAN,
AUTHOR OF THE
“MEMOIRS OF JAMES, SEVENTH EARL OF DERBY,”
PUBLISHED BY THE CHETHAM SOCIETY;
A WORTHY BIOGRAPHY OF A GREAT HISTORICAL CHARACTER,
TO WHICH THE WRITER OF THIS TALE
OWES MUCH.
BOOK I. — THE SIEGE OF MANCHESTER
CHAPTER I
A Presage of Ill
LATE one night, in the disastrous year 1642, soon after the commencement of the Civil War, as Lord Strange was alone in his closet at Knowsley Hall, reading a treatise by Cardan, blood fell suddenly upon the book. Being in a very melancholy frame of mind at the time, he was powerfully affected by the occurrence, and could not help regarding it as a presage of ill.
As soon as he had recovered his composure, he addressed a prayer to Heaven for the safety and welfare of the king, and his own preservation from sudden and violent death, and had not long risen from his knees, when a tap at the door was heard, and next moment, a grave-looking person-age, whose dress proclaimed him a divine, entered the closet.
This was Doctor Samuel Rutter, Archdeacon of Man, and Lord Strange’s domestic chaplain. He had been absent for some months, having duties to perform in the Isle of Man, and had only returned on that very evening. He had seen his noble patron on his arrival at Knowsley Hall, and thought him looking very unwell, but little passed between them at the time. After they had separated for the night, an unaccountable uneasiness came over him, and being unable to shake off the feeling, he repaired to his lordship’s study, being aware that he had not retired to rest, and was much relieved by finding him seated composedly in his chair.
“Now Heaven be praised that I find your lord-ship well!” exclaimed the archdeacon. “I have been much troubled concerning you, and could not seek my couch till I had satisfied my mind that you had not been seized by some sudden illness.”
Thanking him for his solicitude, Lord Strange said, “In truth, I have not been well, but am now somewhat better. Sit down, I pray you, my good friend. I shall be glad to have some converse with you.”
As Doctor Rutter placed his taper on the table, his eye fell upon the blood- stained book, and he uttered an exclamation of astonishment and horror.
“Has this just happened, my lord?” he asked.
“Scarce half an hour ago,” replied Lord Strange. “Shut the book, I pray you, and put it aside.”
Doctor Rutter obeyed, and remarked, as he sat down:
“This portent must not be disregarded, my lord. Be warned, I entreat you. Take no further part in the conflict between the king and the rebellious Parliament, but live in quiet and retirement till the struggle is over. I know my counsel will be unpalatable, but it is prompted by duty to your lord-ship. After the spectacle I have just beheld, I cannot hold my tongue. Be warned, I repeat. Advance not on this path of danger, or it may lead to your destruction. You may share the fate of Strafford.”
“It may be so,” replied Lord Strange; “but I shall go on. I would not desert the king at this juncture, even if I were certain that the direful consequences you predict would ensue.”
“I would your fidelity and devotion were better appreciated by his majesty, my lord. All the great efforts you have made for him appear to have been counteracted by his advisers, several of whom are evidently inimical to you.”
“You are right,” said Lord Strange. “They have persuaded the king that I am ambitious, and have pretensions to the crown like my uncle Ferdinando, and they say I shall desert him as my ancestor, Lord Stanley, deserted , Richard the Third at Bosworth Field, when he gave the crown to his son-in-law, the Earl of Richmond. His majesty, therefore, views my conduct with jealousy and suspicion. When I joined him at York, I met with a cold reception, but soon discovered why I was so treated, and strove to disabuse his mind of his unjust and unfounded suspicions. ‘Sire,’ I said, ‘if it were true that I am plotting against you, I should merit death. Let him who dares charge me with treason stand forth, and I will pick the calumny from his lips with the point of my sword.’ Lord Goring, Lord Digby, and Lord Jermyn were present at the time — but not one of them answered the challenge.”
“And what said the king?” asked Doctor Rutter.
“He prayed me to have patience; adding, ‘this is not a time, when the rebels are marching against me, to quarrel amongst ourselves.’”
“Methinks the rebels themselves must have seen their own advantage in the unworthy treatment thus shown you, my lord,” remarked Rutter, “and have sought to win you over.”
“You have guessed right,” said Lord Strange. “A despatch was shortly afterwards sent me by Colonel Holland, commander of the garrison in Manchester, stating that he was aware of the great indignity put upon me by the king’s evil counsellors, who were the enemies of the nation, and that if I would engage in the cause of the Parliament, I should have a command equal to my own greatness, or to that of any of my ancestors. My reply to the insolent proposition was prompt and decisive. I bade the messenger tell Colonel Holland, that when he heard I had turned traitor, I would listen to his offers. Till then, if I received such another despatch it would be at the peril of him who brought it.”
“The answer was worthy of you, my lord,” said the chaplain; “and well calculated to put to shame the king’s advisers. Surely, a
fter this, his majesty could entertain no suspicion of you?”
“An idea once fixed upon the king’s mind is not easily removed. My motives have been misrepresented throughout. Thus, when I assembled upwards of sixty thousand efficient men on the moors near Bury, Ormskirk, and Preston, I was authoritatively forbidden to take the command of the force, and these potent auxiliaries were lost to the king, because they would serve no other leader but myself. Many of them went over to the rebels. Had this large force been retained, and augmented as it could have been, the king might have marched on in triumph to London, and have effectually crushed the rebellion.”
“’Tis lamentable,” remarked Doctor Rutter. “But his majesty’s eyes have been blinded.”
“Though deeply hurt by the treatment I have experienced,” pursued Lord Strange, “I did not desist from my efforts, but without delay raised three troops of horse, and three regiments of foot, which I armed and equipped, and prepared to join the king at Warrington, where it had been agreed that the royal standard should be reared. Once more the counsels of my enemies prevailed, and to the king’s disadvantage. Warrington, where I am omnipotent, as I need not tell you, was abandoned, and Nottingham chosen, where I have no influence whatever. At the same time, without any reason assigned for the step, I was deprived of the lieutenancy of Cheshire and North Wales, and Lord Rivers was joined in commission with me for Lancashire.”
“I marvel your lordship could forgive the affront. But I know your loyalty is unchangeable.”
“I shall not cease to serve the king faithfully, even though he should continue to requite me with ingratitude,” said Lord Strange; “nor shall I abate my zeal, even though his cause should become hopeless. I am now awaiting his majesty’s orders to attack Manchester. I could easily have taken the place two months ago, when I seized upon the magazine, and carried off the powder stored within it by Colonel Holland, but I had no orders at the time, and might have been blamed for precipitancy. Since then the town has been fortified by an engineer named Rosworm, and it can now stand a siege.”