The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  Bowing to the countess, who arose and returned the salutation, Sir Thomas Fairfax departed. He was attended by Major Farrington and Standish, and as he passed through the lines of musketeers, who were still stationed in the court- yard, there arose from them a loud shout, which was taken up by their comrades on the towers and ramparts.

  “God save the Earl of Derby and the king,” resounded on all sides.

  CHAPTER V

  How a Stand in the Park was destroyed by Rigby, and a Mill burnt

  FAIRFAX rode back in a very thoughtful mood to Ormskirk, where he found Colonel Rigby, and told him his errand had been unsuccessful.

  “I expected nothing else from that impracticable and imperious dame,” said Rigby. “Then the siege will commence at once?”

  “No; I have given her a further delay of two days,” replied Fairfax.

  “I am sorry for it,” said Rigby. “Nothing will be gained by the delay.”

  “Perhaps reflection may induce her to submit, and I do not wish to treat her harshly,” observed Fairfax. “On the day after to-morrow, should I not hear from her in the interim, Colonel Morgan shall take a final message. Meantime, some slight work may be done. Within the park, at the south of the mansion, is a stand from which the earl used to shoot deer. Of late, it appears, this stand has been used as a receptacle for provisions — carcases of sheep and oxen — which have been secretly conveyed to the mansion. It must be destroyed.”

  “It shall be,” said Rigby.

  “There is also a windmill on the road to Newburgh, which I make no doubt the countess has found useful. No more corn must be ground there.”

  “I will take care of that,” rejoined Rigby, with a laugh.

  “My object is to cut off all supplies,” observed Fairfax; “and I believe the loss of that storehouse in the park, together with the windmill, will seriously inconvenience the garrison.”

  “I doubt it not,” said Rigby. “Shall I instruct Captain Browne, the engineer, to draw the lines round the mansion?”

  “Ay, that may be done, to show we are in earnest,” said Fairfax. “But no attack must be made till the siege is declared.”

  Rigby immediately proceeded with a troop of horse to the stand in the south park. Three or four persons were within it, but they fled on the approach of the Parliamentarians, leaving behind them a large stock of meat and provisions.

  After the structure had been demolished, Rigby took his men to the windmill. The place was unguarded, and no one was to be seen but the miller, who resolutely refused them admittance, and drew up the ladder, so that they could not reach the door, which was high up in the building. At the same time, he himself disappeared.

  With some difficulty the ladder was got down, and a couple of troopers mounted it, but the foremost stopped at the door, for he discovered that the interior of the mill was on fire, and turning round, communicated this disagreeable information to his leader.

  “Heed not the fire,” cried Rigby. “Go in and extinguish it.”

  “It cannot be extinguished,” replied the man. “It burns furiously. I dare not enter.”

  “What has become of the miller?” shouted Rigby.

  “I see him not,” replied the trooper. “But most assuredly he will perish in the flames if he comes not forth instantly.”

  “Look in once more, and tell me if there is much corn in the mill,” said Rigby.

  The man did as he was bidden, but quickly drew back his head, and dashing down the ladder, upset his comrades on the lower steps.

  In another moment the flames burst from the door and window.

  As soon as the man had recovered speech, Rigby again put the question to him:

  “Didst thou see much corn in the mill?”

  “Yea, verily,” replied the man. “It seemed to me filled with corn.”

  “Then let it burn,” cried Rigby, “and the miller with it.”

  And without making an effort to save anything, he rode off, followed by his men.

  CHAPTER VI

  What happened in the Ruins of Burscough Priory

  BETWEEN Lathom House and Ormskirk, in the midst of a wood, stood Burscough Priory — a large religious establishment that had been suffered to go to decay. But the ruins were very picturesque and beautiful, and contained many sculptured shrines and other monuments.

  Rigby had heard of the priory, but had not seen it, and he now determined to inspect the ruins.

  Taking with him half a dozen men, he sent the rest of his troops to Ormskirk, and rode through the wood to Burscough.

  Resolved to examine the interior of the priory, he dismounted, and giving his horse to one of the troopers, he entered the ruins, but had not advanced far, when, to his surprise, he saw a grave-looking personage advancing towards him, who saluted him courteously.

  A moment’s reflection convinced Rigby that this must be the Spanish gentleman who had been staying at Knowsley, and he therefore said to him sternly:

  “If I mistake not, you are Don Fortunio Alava?”

  The stranger replied in the affirmative, and added by way of explanation, though he could scarcely make himself understood, since he spoke English with difficulty:

  “I have come hither with my daughter. She is praying at a shrine yonder. You will not disturb her?”

  “This praying at shrines, and worshipping of images, is an abomination to me,” rejoined Rigby.

  “But here — in this retired place — such prayers can offend no one,” protested Don Fortunio.

  “They offend me,” said Rigby. “Doubtless you have come here from Lathom House?”

  Don Fortunio replied in the affirmative.

  “Then return thither forthwith,” said Rigby. “It is well for you that there is a truce with the countess, or I had made you a prisoner.”

  “You are mistaken, Colonel Rigby,” said Standish, suddenly appearing from behind a monument, which had hitherto concealed him. “Don Fortunio Alava and his daughter are not unprotected.”

  “They should have kept within Lathom House at this time,” said Rigby. “If they give my soldiers provocation I cannot be answerable for the consequences.”

  “What provocation can they give your men?” demanded Standish.

  “It is an offence to them that Papists should come here to pray,” said Rigby; “and they will not permit it. The Spaniards had best go back to Lathom House.”

  “They are returning to Knowsley, whence they were forcibly taken by Captain Bootle,” said Standish.

  “That cannot be permitted,” rejoined Rigby.

  “You will not dispute this warrant from Sir Thomas Fairfax, colonel,” said Standish, taking a paper from his belt. “By it Don Antonio Alava and his daughter, with her attendant, are licensed to reside at Knowsley Hall.”

  “Let me look at the warrant,” said Rigby.

  After glancing at it he said, sternly:

  “I am satisfied. You are at liberty to conduct them to Knowsley — but you yourself must return to Lathom.”

  “Such is my intention,” replied Standish.

  Upon this Rigby departed, and mounting his horse rode off with his men.

  As soon as he was gone, Engracia and Maria made their appearance from another part of the ruins.

  “Heaven be praised that dreadful man is gone!” cried Engracia. “I was afraid we should be made prisoners.”

  “I have got a safe-conduct for you from the general,” replied Standish; “and even the audacious Rigby would not dare to disobey it. You can now return to Knowsley.”

  “But I shall be afraid to remain there,” she said.

  “You will be safer there than at Lathom,” said Standish.

  “But you will never be able to come to Knowsley when the siege commences?” she remarked.

  “Not often, I fear,” he replied. “All communication will be cut off by the enemy’s lines.”

  “Then I will stay at Lathom.”

  “But the countess may not desire to have us there,” observed he
r father. “We must not presume too far on her hospitality.”

  “Let us see her once more, dear father, before we return to Knowsley?” said Engracia.

  “She must not be put to the slightest inconvenience. I will never consent to that,” said Don Fortunio.

  The horsemen whom Standish had brought with him, and Don Fortunio’s steed, and the two palfreys belonging to Engracia and her attendant, were in waiting at the back of the ruins, and so well concealed, that they had escaped the notice of Rigby and his troopers.

  On the arrival of the party at Lathom, the countess chanced to be in the court- yard, and without a moment’s hesitation declared that, under the circumstances, they ought to proceed to Knowsley.

  “With Sir Thomas Fairfax’s warrant you will be quite safe there,” she said, “and will have none of the inconvenience you would have to endure here.”

  Engracia would much rather have remained at Lathom with all its perils, but Don Fortunio was perfectly satisfied, and thanked her ladyship for her consideration. So they set out at once for Knowsley, and were escorted thither by Standish.

  CHAPTER VII

  Of the Message brought by Colonel Morgan to the Countess

  NEXT day, the countess prepared for the reception of the messenger whom she knew would be sent to her by Sir Thomas Fairfax.

  About an hour before noon, Colonel Morgan arrived, attended by a dozen troopers, whom he was obliged to leave outside the gate. No display was made of the strength of the garrison, as was done when Sir Thomas Fairfax visited the castle.

  Colonel Morgan dismounted in the outer court, and was at once conducted to the countess.

  A man of small stature, with a very fierce expression of countenance, heightened by a pair of piercing black eyes. His manner was exceedingly consequential, far more so than that of Fairfax, and he comported himself very haughtily towards Major Farrington, who received him, and conducted him to the countess.

  Colonel Morgan had won a considerable reputation for activity and courage, and was reputed a very skilful engineer. As he marched through the court with Major Farrington, he encountered several of the officers, and eyed them sharply, almost menacingly, and he also glanced inquisitively at the ramparts.

  The countess received him in the presence-chamber, but very coldly, being highly displeased by his manner. Only Archdeacon Rutter and Captain Standish were with her at the time.

  In a somewhat insolent tone he informed her that Sir Thomas Fairfax agreed to her conditions, and would allow her to take her children, her chaplains, and her servants to the Isle of Man, but she must disband all her men, and prepare to receive an officer and forty Parliamentary soldiers as her guard.

  “Disband all my men?” cried the countess.

  “Before noon to-morrow,” said Colonel Morgan, peremptorily.

  “And you, I presume, are the officer in command?” remarked the countess.

  “Your ladyship has guessed aright. It is so,” he replied. “I trust I shall be able to carry back a satisfactory answer to the general.”

  “You will tell Sir Thomas Fairfax that I refuse his proposition — entirely refuse it,” she rejoined. “And I am heartily glad he has refused mine. Were it to save my life I would not renew the offer. Had my lord been in command here you had not dared to offer this insult to him,”

  “No insult is intended to your ladyship,” re-marked Colonel Morgan. “The general merely requires you to disband your garrison.”

  “Is it not an affront to send such a message to me?” said the countess. “Did Sir Thomas expect compliance? If he did, he little knows me. I am ready to resist his utmost violence, and trust in Heaven for protection and deliverance. As to you, sir, who have dared to bring me this insolent message, and have ventured to intimate to me that you are appointed to the command of the castle — you shall never set foot in it again.”

  “I may not be admitted, madam, but it is possible I may enter, nevertheless,” said Morgan, boldly.

  “Shall I cast him forth, madam, for his insolence and presumption?” cried Standish.

  “No, I have promised him free access and a safe return,” said the countess. “But he has abused his license.”

  “I do not desire to offend your ladyship, and am sorry if I have done so,” said Colonel Morgan, in a slightly apologetic tone. “I share in the high respect which the general bears for you, and regret that you will not submit to the ordinances of the Parliament. Resistance will be impossible against the large force we shall bring, and by which the castle will very shortly be completely invested. We have ordnance of the largest size, bombards, basilisks, and a great mortar, that will cast forth grenades that cannot fail to burn down the place.”

  “I fear not your grenades,” said the countess. “Heaven will protect me.”

  “Your terrible mortar will do us no mischief,” said Standish. “We will take it from you.”

  “That is not all,” said Morgan. “We will proceed against you by sap and mine.”

  “We will meet you however you may come,” said Standish.

  “Enough of this,” cried the countess. “I make no boast of my strength, but my cause is just, and I am assured it will triumph.”

  “May I have a word more with your ladyship ere I depart?” said Morgan. “I am authorised by Sir Thomas Fairfax to grant you another day’s delay if you desire it.”

  “I will not be beholden to your general for any further favour,” replied the countess. “Let him come how he will, and when he will, he shall find me prepared. Conduct the messenger to the gate.”

  While mounting his horse in the court-yard, Colonel Morgan said to Standish, who had conducted him thither:

  “I am persuaded this is not the last interview I shall have with her ladyship. Possibly, when I am next admitted to her presence, she may treat me with more courtesy than on the present occasion.”

  “Before that, I trust, you and I shall meet again, colonel?” said Standish, significantly.

  CHAPTER VIII

  How the Intrenchments were made

  BY this time the Parliamentarians had taken up their quarters at various points round the castle.

  Colonel Rigby was encamped near Newburgh, Colonel Moore on the road to Ormskirk, and Colonel Assheton and Sir Thomas Fairfax on the south side, where the tents could be descried amongst the trees.

  The besiegers now numbered a force of more than two thousand men — five hundred horse, and fifteen hundred foot — quite sufficient, it was thought, for the reduction of the place.

  The mansion was now completely invested, parties of men being posted so closely together that all communication with friends was cut off.

  Already the lines had been marked out by the engineers, and the pioneers had commenced digging the trenches. They were assisted by several hundred sturdy yeomen and hinds, all of them being Lord Derby’s tenants or servants, who were forced by threats and blows to do work that was most distasteful to them.

  Some of these poor fellows broke away and ran towards the castle, but the mounted guard galloped after them and brought them back.

  The intrenchments were begun at night at the distance of a musket-shot from the mansion, and in a place screened by the rising ground from the ordnance on the towers, and the pioneers and their assistants laboured so hard that before dawn considerable progress had been made. Concealment was then no longer possible, and fire was opened upon them from the walls of the castle, but little mischief was done.

  From this time the work proceeded rapidly, being continued night and day without intermission. A deep trench, sheltered by a breastwork of earth, gradually encircled the mansion, and imprisoned its occupants. Constant attacks were made on the pioneers, but no real interruption was effected, and the work went on.

  Posted on the Eagle Tower, the countess viewed the progress of this work with ill-suppressed rage, but without uneasiness. In this exalted position, she was out of reach of the enemy’s guns, for as yet no large piece of ordnance had been directed
against the house, and all shot had been fired against the ramparts.

  No serious assault, however, had been made; nor did any such seem intended.

  Evidently, the design of Sir Thomas Fairfax, and the other Parliamentary leaders, was to terrify the countess into submission, but if they could have seen her on the Eagle Tower, with Major Farrington, Archdeacon Rutter, and her daughters, they would have felt she would not be easily intimidated. Her sole feeling was that of anger against her foes, and an almost irrepressible desire to attack them. But she was far too prudent not to check the impulse.

  Not unfrequently, was Gertrude Rosworm present, and if her sentiments could be judged by her flashing eyes, she shared the countess’s indignation, and longed to assail the besiegers.

  From this eminent position, the beholders not only overlooked the rising ground on the further side of the moat, and the breastwork of the trenches, but could distinguish the pioneers and their assistants at work. They saw the Parliamentary commanders riding from point to point, each with a troop of horse; they saw the numerous parties of infantry posted around; and they likewise descried in the distance the different encampments of the enemy.

  While they were gazing at this picture, Sir Thomas Fairfax, whom they easily recognised, rode round the intrenchments, followed by a troop of horse. He was attended by Colonel Browne, the chief engineer, and Colonel Morgan, and halted ever and anon to inspect the works.

  Several shots were fired at him, and though he escaped, two of his men were killed. He did not seem in the slightest degree disturbed by these occurrences, but continued his inspection quietly, as if nothing had happened.

  The countess could not help admiring his coolness and courage, and she was still watching him as he moved on, when Captain Standish made his appearance.

  “I have a request to prefer to your ladyship,” he said. “It is that Captain Chisenhale and myself may be permitted to sally forth on the enemy tomorrow morning. The trenches are now nearly opposite the gateway, and we wish to give the pioneers a check. Captain Chisenhale will take with him a hundred musketeers, and I will support him with a dozen horse. Captain Ogle will cover our retreat.”