The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  Reinforcements had just been sent to the trenches by Rigby, and the new- comers, perplexed by the shouts and cries which were heard on all sides, fired upon their friends, whom they mistook for foes, and killed several of them. As in the morning, the Royalists escaped without the loss of a man.

  These repeated disasters produced the natural effect. The besiegers lost spirit, and fought badly, and it was evident they would go on still worse, if something was not done to rouse them.

  A council of war was therefore held in the camp, at which Sir Thomas Fairfax and the three commanders were present.

  Rigby, whose rage had not yet subsided, and who considered himself aggrieved by the want of attention paid him by the general, was very anxious that the mansion should be assaulted, but Fairfax would not listen to the proposition.

  “I have reason to believe that the place is much stronger than we thought,” he said, “and that an assault would be very hazardous. I shall therefore persist in my plan of reducing it by siege. This is slow but sure, whereas if we should be repulsed in an assault, the whole county will ring with the news, hundreds of malignants, who now dare not show their heads, will come here, and immense service will consequently be done to the royal cause.”

  “Should the attack prove unsuccessful, I grant that such would be the case,” replied Rigby; “and I know Rosworm is averse to an assault, but I do not think there is any risk, and this slow siege disheartens our men. These last successes of the enemy have greatly disheartened them.”

  “Hitherto, we have been very unlucky, it must be owned, and have succeeded in none of our designs,” observed Colonel Assheton. “Our miners have not yet been able to get under the moat, and the scheme to drain the springs on the south- east of the castle that supply the deep well inside has totally failed.”

  “We must employ another plan, and drain the well itself,” said Colonel Moore. “I believe that can be accomplished.”

  “No doubt,” said Fairfax; “and although we have met with many more obstructions in our work than might have been expected, we have made good progress. We have cut off all supplies from without. No fresh provisions have been obtained by the garrison, and as their stores will soon run short, they must submit or starve.”

  “The prisoners last exchanged declare they have plenty of provisions, and can hold out for a couple of months longer,” remarked Rigby.

  “It is the countess’s policy to make it appear so,” observed Fairfax. “But it is not possible the garrison can be so well stored.”

  “A contrary opinion prevails,” remarked Rigby. “But I do not think their sallying parties have succeeded in procuring any fresh provisions, and none can have been introduced in any other way.”

  “You are sure of that?” said Fairfax.

  “I am sure of it,” replied Rigby. “Since I took possession of that stand in the park and the windmill neither meat nor flour can have been carried in without our knowledge.”

  “Then you may be sure the end is not far off,” said Fairfax. “The Earl of Derby would never have asked for a free passage for his wife and children had he believed the garrison could long hold out.”

  “But her ladyship’s bold answer seems to have undeceived him, since he now refuses to treat for a surrender,” rejoined Rigby.

  “I attach little importance to that,” said Fairfax. “He well knows her ladyship will be honourably treated. As you say that our men are dispirited by their ill success, and they may haply deem that our undertaking is not approved by Heaven, to-morrow shall be observed as a day of fasting and prayer, and our ministers shall be enjoined to implore Divine assistance in our behalf.”

  “Such an injunction will do much good,” said Rigby, “and we must see that it is strictly obeyed. With so many zealous ministers as we have in the camp, a good effect cannot fail to be produced. Our men will fight all the better after listening to their discourses.”

  Both Colonel Assheton and Colonel Moore concurred in the opinion that a day of fasting and supplication would do infinite good, and the order for its rigid observance on the morrow was issued accordingly.

  Nor was the injunction neglected. In each camp, as we have said, there were several ministers — many more than were needed — but each had a certain number of listeners to whom he addressed his discourse. All preached against the countess, and all earnestly besought Heaven to aid them in their endeavours to drive her from her stronghold, denouncing her as a Papist and an idolatress.

  One of the most infuriated amongst them took for his text the words of the Prophet: “Put yourselves in array against Babylon round about: all ye that bend the bow shoot at her, spare no arrows, for she hath sinned against the Lord.”

  The discourse of this zealot produced the desired effect upon his hearers, and they resolved to carry out his injunctions.

  But the soldiers in the trenches were not allowed to pass the day in quiet. Already they had been disturbed in their devotions by an occasional cannon shot falling among them; and at last they were roused to action by shouts and a discharge of musketry that announced that the restless Cavaliers were again at hand.

  CHAPTER XX

  How a Cannon-shot fired by the Besiegers burst into the Countess’s Chamber

  THE Countess of Derby, as we have shown, was a very early riser, and generally appeared on the parade with her daughters before attending service in the chapel; but on the third morning after the successful attack had been made upon the enemy, she had not quitted her chamber at a somewhat later hour than usual, owing to the unfavourable state of the weather.

  The room was situated at the end of the great gallery in the upper part of the mansion, and had a noble bay window, filled with stained glass, looking towards the south. The furniture was of oak, and richly carved, and the walls were covered with tapestry.

  Attached to the room was an ante-chamber, furnished in precisely the same manner, except that it was not provided with a stately bed and a toilette- table. The rooms had formerly been occupied by Earl William and his countess, and in the couch, just alluded to, that pious lady had breathed her last.

  On the morning in question the countess was in the ante-chamber, though the door between the rooms usually masked by a piece of arras, was left open. Her private devotions had been finished before she left her bedroom, and she was seated at a table making some additions to a journal, which she kept in the hope that her lord might one day peruse it.

  The last records were very satisfactory. All had gone well. Though the besiegers had completed their trenches and mounted their batteries they could not hold them. Their guns had been silenced, their forts partially destroyed, and if they began the work again, she felt sure that with Heaven’s aid the like result would follow. Therefore she was of good heart.

  As this journal was intended for no other eye than her lord’s, she put down within it her in-most thoughts, and these words now flowed from her pen:

  “Oh, my dear lord, I have an arduous task to perform, and I trust strength may be given me from Above to accomplish it. At times I want support from thee. Oh! that thou wert with me now, to counsel and encourage me. I know the wish is vain, yet I cannot repress it. After all, I am only a woman.”

  When the brave lady had finished this sentence, she closed the little volume, and her breast found relief in a deep sigh.

  At that moment her countenance had a different expression from that which it habitually wore. The haughty and resolute look that usually marked her features had disappeared, and a feminine softness succeeded, and lasted so long as she was alone; but when Gertrude entered the room, she instantly shook off the feeling and became determined as ever.

  “You have a letter for me, I perceive,” she said to the damsel, after bidding her good-morrow. “Whence comes it? From Sir Thomas Fairfax?”

  “From the noble lord, your husband, madam,” replied Gertrude, giving her the letter. “The luckless messenger who brought it reached the posterngate unharmed. There he was struck by a shot from
the enemy, but had strength enough left to fling the letter to the guard.”

  “He should have had a better reward for the service,” sighed the countess.

  Then opening the letter, and casting her eyes over it, she said:

  “My lord approves of my refusal to surrender to Fairfax, and bids me to listen to no propositions, but hold on, as I am certain to be relieved. That is well. Had he commanded otherwise, I could scarce have obeyed him.”

  “I do not think your ladyship could be forced to surrender to the rebels,” observed Gertrude.

  “Thou art right, girl,” she rejoined. “I will blow up this house and bury us all in the ruins rather than yield to them, so you know the fate that awaits you, if you stay with me.”

  “I am not afraid,” replied Gertrude, with a firmness equal to her own.

  “Thou art a brave girl,” cried the countess, approvingly.

  At this juncture, the three young ladies Stanley entered the room, and flew towards their mother.

  “You have a letter from our dear father,” they cried. “Is he coming to drive the enemy away?”

  “Not yet,” replied the countess.

  “He may come too late,” cried Lady Henriette Marie. “They say the rebels are more threatening than ever, and are determined to batter down our walls as soon as their cannon will fire properly.”

  “I am afraid of that terrible mortar,” said Lady Kate. “Captain Standish says they have taken the nails from it, and we may soon expect to hear its dreadful voice again.”

  “I think the culverin and the saker make noise enough,” said the little Lady Amelia. “We are to have that music all day.”

  “They will cease firing when they find they can do us no harm,” said the countess. “By this time they ought to have found out that they can make no impression on our walls.”

  “But they may damage the house,” said Lady Henriette.

  As she spoke, a terrible crash was heard in the adjoining chamber, followed by the descent of a heavy body, making it clear that a cannon shot had entered the window, and dropped upon the floor.

  The young ladies Stanley screamed, but the countess and Gertrude maintained their composure, and the latter instantly rushed into the other room to see what had happened.

  As she supposed, a ponderous shot had broken the beautiful glass of the bay window, and rolled to the foot of the bed.

  “Tis well your ladyship had left the room ere this occurred,” said Gertrude, as the countess came in, followed by her daughters, whose countenances bespoke their alarm.

  “Yes, I have been wonderfully preserved,” replied the countess.

  “But you will not continue to occupy the room, mamma?” cried the Lady Henriette.

  “Wherefore not?” rejoined her mother, “Heaven will protect me.”

  They were examining the shot when the voices of Trioche and others of the household were heard without, praying admittance, and the countess bade Gertrude open the door of the ante-chamber.

  Great was the delight of these faithful servants to find their noble mistress unhurt, and they were still expressing their satisfaction, when Major Farrington, with Standish and Archdeacon Rutter, made their appearance, and were equally pleased.

  “We knew that a shot had struck this part of the building, and feared mischief,” said Major Farrington. “But since your ladyship is safe all is well.”

  “I had no such fear, madam,” observed Archdeacon Rutter. “I felt sure Heaven would protect you.”

  “The engineer who fired that shot will never fire another,” said Standish. “He was killed next moment by our marksmen, and his place has not yet been taken, as is evident by the silence of the culverin.”

  “It may be well that your ladyship should show yourself,” said Major Farrington. “Fears are entertained for your safety.”

  “I will go down at once,” replied the countess.

  “I must perforce change my lodging till that window is repaired, but the enemy shall not drive me from my room.”

  “I felt sure of it, madam,” said Gertrude.

  Accompanied by her daughters and Archdeacon Rutter, the countess then descended to the parade, where she was enthusiastically received by the officers and men, and shouts resounded from the walls.

  By this time the rain had ceased and the morning had become bright and cheerful. After remaining in the court for a few minutes, she proceeded to the chapel to offer up thanks for her preservation.

  Meanwhile three or four engineers on the batteries of the besiegers had been shot, and apparently not a man could be found to work the guns. Thus the enemy ceased firing altogether, and the garrison became completely tranquillised.

  But towards evening it seemed certain — from preparations that were then being made — that the mortar would again be tried on the morrow.

  CHAPTER XXI

  Of the Experiments made by the Besiegers with the Great Mortar

  NEXT morning, as Major Farrington, in company with Standish, reconnoitred the enemy from the ramparts, he perceived they were again very busily employed in the sconce in which the great mortar was placed. As far as the observers could make out, some two hundred men were collected near the new fort, and it was evident this large force had been brought there to resist any attack.

  “I do not like that mortar,” remarked Major Farrington, “and I am persuaded it will give us more trouble than all the rest of their guns put together.”

  “It may not prove so formidable as you anticipate,” said Standish. “However, I own it has an ugly look, and should be glad if its large mouth could be stopped, but that does not seem practicable. Nailing it is useless as we have found.”

  “Depend upon it, they are going to give it a thorough trial to-day,” said Major Farrington; “and unless I am mistaken some of their commanders are in the sconce to witness the experiment. I will take care they shall not have a very pleasant time of it.”

  “If Rigby is there I hope a shot may hit him,” rejoined Standish. “But for him we should not have been plagued by this pestilent mortar.”

  Major Farrington then gave orders to the engineers in all the towers facing the fort in question to concentrate their fire upon it. This was done and carried on so persistently, that at length not a man could be seen above the ramparts.

  However, the besiegers were not to be deterred from their design. Suddenly, a thundering sound announced that the mortar had been discharged, and a ponderous stone — the course of which could be traced through the air — passed over the walls, and fell in the court, luckily without doing any damage, though causing great consternation.

  No further experiment was made that day, because the engineers in the fort were afraid to work, owing to the incessant fire kept up from the ramparts; but enough had been done to prove the tremendous power of the mortar, and all those who gazed at the stone thought what destruction would have been caused had it fallen on the top of a tower or on the roof of the mansion.

  Next day, on examining the magazine, Major Farrington made the unpleasant discovery that the powder was beginning to run short.

  The constant firing from the ramparts and towers that had taken place during the last week had well-nigh exhausted the stock, and although a considerable supply had been obtained from the trenches of the enemy during the sallies, very little was left.

  For the first time, the countess became uneasy when she received this alarming intelligence, and she gave peremptory orders that no more powder should be wasted. Not a needless shot must be fired.

  Standish and the officers did not share her ladyship’s uneasiness, because they felt certain the trenches would yield a fresh supply, and the men were not altogether pleased by the restraint put upon them. However, they did not dare to disobey orders, and for the present the firing almost wholly ceased.

  As if to test their patience, the enemy were more active than usual on that day, and again brought all their ordnance to bear upon the walls.

  Six of the cannon we
re loaded with chain-shot and bars of iron, but happily did little mischief. They then tried their muskets for more than half an hour together, but with no better success. Not a single man on the walls was hit, nor could they provoke a reply.

  Later on, they made another experiment with the great mortar, and this time a grenado was thrown at the mansion. It fell in a small court at the back of the chapel where it exploded, and with such violence that it shook down the walls near it. Again no one was injured, but infinite alarm was caused by the concussion.

  The engineers feared that some new fireballs would next be tried, and men provided with wet hides stood ready to extinguish these combustibles if they fell near the mansion. Luckily the services of these assistants were not required. Only a second stone shot was launched against the stronghold, and did no harm.

  But the mortar had now become a terrible engine, and frightened the brave men, who had hitherto derided all the attempts of the enemy.

  The greater part of the mansion was built of oak, and though shot proof, it might be set on fire. This seemed now to be the aim of the enemy, and the possibility of such an occurrence filled the whole garrison with alarm. The staunchest musketeer turned pale when speaking of shells and grenadoes, and many of them asked permission to quit their lodgings in the upper part of the walls.

  To shame them from their fears the officers removed to these rooms, but nothing could overcome the dread caused by the mortar, and when next day another grenado fell in the midst of the musketeers it scattered them like so many sheep.

  Familiarity, however, with the danger gave them courage, and when they found that grenadoes were not so dangerous as they imagined — no one as yet having been hurt — they began to laugh at them — especially when a couple that were badly aimed, flew over the house.

  Just at this time an incident occurred which, although it did not for a moment shake the fortitude of the countess, caused her great annoyance.