“I will cause a guard to be placed there myself, since you deem it needful,” said Rosworm. “But I desire to say a word to you respecting the prisoners who have been brought here from Knowsley by Captain Bootle. Do you intend to detain them?”
“Ay, till they are ransomed,” replied Rigby. “But I cannot bestow a thought upon them now.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Not exactly,” replied Rigby. “I directed Bootle to provide them with a lodging, and he told me he had done so. As I have just said, I have not had time to think of them.”
“They are lodged in the very house we have just been speaking of — Stephen Marsh’s,” — said Rosworm. “The young damsel was greatly terrified by the assault, and offered me some jewels if I would deliver her and her father, and their Spanish servant. But I could not comply without consulting you. Will you take these jewels as a ransom, and let them go? They can depart by this subterranean passage.”
“Are they aware of the outlet?” asked Rigby.
“No; neither is Captain Bootle,” replied Rosworm.
“I will give the matter consideration,” said Rigby. “The prisoners are best here for the present.”
“But we may have another assault.”
“If so, they shall be removed to a safer place. When I have been to church — if nothing happens to prevent me — I will go to Marsh’s house.”
“You will find me there,” replied Rosworm.
They then separated.
Their discourse had taken place in the inner room of a large inn situated in the market-place, the other rooms of the house being filled with soldiers, who were refreshing themselves after their active service on the walls.
In the market-place itself, some five or six hundred pikemen and clubmen were collected, numbers of whom were listening to a preacher in a grey cloak, stationed at the foot of the old stone cross, who was congratulating them on the glorious victory they had achieved.
Alas! how soon was the scene changed. That place now filled with stalwart men was speedily to be choked up with the dead and dying.
The tone of the preacher at the cross in the market-place was full of exultation.
“They compassed us about,” he said, “but they have not prevailed against us. The Lord of Hosts was with us, and fought for us, and if they return, he will help us to smite them again.”
Little did he dream that in the next assault, he himself would be smitten.
CHAPTER IV
How Engracia and her Father escaped by the subterranean Passage
IN the upper room of a house, scarcely more than fifty yards from the mud walls surrounding the town, was a beautiful young damsel, whose attire and features showed she belonged to a different clime. She was kneeling in prayer, with a small crucifix clasped in her hands, on which her eyes were fixed.
Close beside her was another kneeling figure — a woman somewhat older than herself, and of inferior degree, but not without pretensions to good looks.
Both were very earnest in their supplications to the Blessed Virgin to deliver them from the hands into which they had fallen, and when they arose, they believed that their prayers would be heard.
The dreadful sounds that had recently assailed their ears, and filled them with terror, had ceased. No more roaring of cannon — no more rattling of musketry — no more shouting.
The attack was over, and seemed to have ended in the defeat of their friends, for as such they regarded the assailants. But though greatly distressed by this result, they did not believe that Heaven would abandon them; nor did they think the fight was entirely ended.
The room in which we find Engracia and her attendant Maria, looked towards the town, and on approaching the windows, they beheld a great number of musketeers and pikemen hurrying past.
These men were making towards a wide street that seemed to lead towards the centre of the town, and in reality conducted to the market-place, whither the soldiers were proceeding.
In this street were a multitude of townsfolk — men and women — who welcomed the soldiers with enthusiasm, and proffered them jugs of ale, which were quickly emptied.
Part of the mud walls, and a barricade, that served to defend the Bradshaw Gate, could be seen from the window on the left. On the right were more fortifications.
As seen from this window, the town looked like a mass of black and white houses, in the midst of which rose the tower of the church, surmounted by a broad banner. Very few soldiers could be perceived on the walls, and none at the barricades. All had gone to the taverns, or to the houses of friends, to refresh themselves.
Engracia and her attendant were still gazing at this strange scene, with mingled emotions of fear and curiosity, when the door opened and Don Fortunio entered the room accompanied by Rosworm.
As the latter had shown them great kindness during their brief captivity, Engracia manifested much pleasure on beholding him.
“Colonel Rosworm has been endeavouring to obtain our release, but without success,” said Don Fortunio to his daughter. “Colonel Rigby will not give him a decided answer.”
“He is unwilling to part with you,” said Rosworm. “I offered him the jewels, but he would not be tempted.”
“Is there no hope of deliverance?” she asked. “Are Prince Rupert and Lord Derby gone?”
“No; they have only retired for awhile,” replied Rosworm. “The assault will be renewed.”
“Holy Mother be praised!” exclaimed Engracia. “There is still hope of deliverance.”
“Not much,” rejoined Rosworm. “The town is well fortified, and the garrison strong. Besides, assistance will arrive ere long from several neighbouring towns.”
“So you see there is but little hope for us, my child,” said her father, tristfully.
“Alas!” ejaculated Engracia.
“Ay de mi!” cried Maria.
“Do not despair,” said Rosworm. “Colonel Rigby himself will be here presently. Your entreaties may have more effect upon him than my proposition.”
Scarcely were the words uttered than the person referred to made his appearance. As usual, his manner was rude and overbearing. Haughtily saluting Don Fortunio, he said:
“I have come to tell you that I cannot liberate you at present on any terms. But you shall have a lodging in the centre of the town, where you will be safe from injury, in the event of a second assault by the enemy.”
Rosworm glanced at the Spaniard, who understood the meaning of the look, and declined the offer.
“I would rather remain where I am,” he said.
“But I require this house for other purposes,” rejoined Rigby. “So I beg you will prepare for immediate departure.”
Feeling remonstrance would be useless, Don Fortunio did not attempt it.
“I have something to say to you in private, colonel,” said Rigby, signing to Rosworm to follow him.
But before the latter could obey, Captain Bootle burst abruptly into the room. His looks betrayed great anxiety.
“Your presence is needed elsewhere, colonel,” he said to Rigby. “Another assault may be speedily expected. The enemy are moving towards the town.”
“I will come with you instantly,” replied Rigby. “I leave the prisoners in your charge, Colonel Rosworm; keep them here, or take them where you list. When you have seen to the security of the house,” he added, significantly, “join me on the walls.”
Without waiting for a reply, he quitted the room with Captain Bootle.
Wishing to ascertain the truth of the intelligence just brought, Rosworm flew to a room on the other side of the house, which commanded the country on the further side of the fortifications, and perceived that Rupert’s whole force was advancing to renew the attack.
Having thus satisfied himself, he returned to Don Fortunio and told him what he had seen.
“Will you remain here?” he said, “or shall I take you to another lodging. You must decide at once.”
“What will you do, my chi
ld?” said Don Fortunio to his daughter.
“Remain here,” she replied.
Just then a strange noise was heard below, and Rosworm went forth to ascertain the cause of it.
On reaching the staircase, he saw that the lower part of the house was entirely filled with armed men, and instantly comprehended what had happened. A party of Royalist musketeers had gained admittance by the subterranean passage.
The alarm must instantly be given, but how? As he rushed back with the intention of flinging open a window, he was followed by an officer who had discovered him.
“Advance at your peril!” cried Rosworm, presenting a pistol at the head of this person, as he was about to enter the room.
But he did not fire, for at that very moment, he perceived that the officer was no other than Captain Standish, and lowered the weapon.
At the same time, exclamations from Don Fortunio and Engracia announced that they had recognised the new-comer.
“Little did I expect to find you here, Colonel Rosworm,” said Standish. “But since chance has brought us together, I am compelled to make you my prisoner. But I will not disarm you.”
“You need not do so, for I shall not resist,” said Rosworm, replacing the pistol in his belt. “But tell me, how did you discover the subterranean passage?”
“It was shown to me by Stephen Marsh, the owner of this house, who brought me here,” replied Standish.
“Ah! the traitor!” exclaimed Rosworm.
“Traitor to Rigby, but friend to Prince Rupert,” replied Standish. “From him I learnt,” he added to Don Fortunio, “that a Spanish gentleman and his daughter, who had been seized by Captain Bootle, were lodged here. Thus I was prepared to find you here, and what is more to liberate you.”
Up to this moment Engracia had been kept motionless by surprise, but she now sprang forward, and was clasped in his arms.
“Will you take us away?” she cried.
“Impossible!” he replied. “I must remain here. I have much to do.”
“We will stay till you can go with us,” she cried, still clinging to him.
“Nay, this must not be,” he said, extricating himself from her embrace. “Not a moment must be lost. Come with me all of you! The man who brought me here will take you safely from the town. Come quickly!”
“I will go with them,” said Rosworm.
“Come, then,” cried Standish.
Taking Engracia’s hand, he led her from the room, and hastily descended the staircase followed by the others.
The lower part of the house, as already intimated, was filled with musketeers, but they drew aside to allow Standish and his companions to pass through their midst.
A short flight of stone steps brought them to a vault, where they found Stephen Marsh with a lighted lantern.
Standish then left them, having previously confided them to Rosworm’s care.
“Take them to Lathom House,” he said; “and fear not to go there. The countess will receive you well.”
CHAPTER V
The Second Assault, and the Massacre
As soon as the firing from the walls announced that Lord Derby had come up, Standish sallied forth from the house at the head of his party of musketeers, and rushed towards the barricade.
So completely were the enemy taken by surprise by this sudden attack, that they could offer little resistance, and almost every man was killed.
From the barricade, the victorious party hurried on to the gate which we have said was defended by stout posts and chains.
In vain the guard stationed here strove to oppose the furious onset. Though aided by their comrades on the walls, as far as was practicable, they gave way after a short but sanguinary conflict, and Standish was master of the gate.
A loud shout from his men announced their success, and they proceeded to unfasten the chains, and throw open the gate.
As soon as these obstacles were removed, the Earl of Derby dashed in with his cuirassiers, shouting with a loud voice, “No quarter!”
These terrible orders were strictly obeyed. Exasperated by the slaughter of their comrades in the previous assault, the men swore not to sheathe their swords till they had slaked their thirst for vengeance.
Headed by the earl the first troop galloped along the main street towards the market-place, cutting down all they encountered. Shrieks and groans were heard on all sides, but no pity was shown.
Other troops rode to the right and the left, or plunged into the narrow thoroughfares shouting out, “Kill! kill — spare not — spare not.”
Frightful scenes occurred. Blinded by fury, the men slaughtered their unresisting victims like sheep, utterly disregarding their cries for compassion, and trampling the still breathing bodies under their horses’ feet.
In the back streets, the wretched inhabitants were quite undefended, and sought to escape from the merciless soldiers, leaving their wives and children to their fate.
In the market-place, however, the Earl of Derby found a great number of pikemen, together with a troop of horse.
With savage satisfaction, he perceived that the latter were commanded by Captain Bootle, and burning for vengeance, he instantly charged them.
The fierce onset could not be resisted, and such of the Parliamentarians as were not cut down took to flight, their retreat being aided by the pikemen.
But their leader was captured and disarmed, and at once brought before Lord Derby.
Bootle could not mistake the look fixed upon him by the earl. Nevertheless, he sued for quarter.
“Spare me, my lord,” he cried, “and I will deliver Rigby into your hands.”
“Thou art false to the last, perfidious villain!” cried the earl. “Already thou hast betrayed me, and now thou wouldst betray him thou art bound to serve. I will not spare thee.”
Stabbed to the heart, the traitor fell from his horse.
By this time, Prince Rupert had entered the devoted town with the whole of his army, and the work of destruction was then carried on with greater fury than before.
No such massacre took place during the civil wars in Lancashire as occurred at Bolton on that day.
The soldiers were killed on the walls, and their bodies thrown into the ditch, but that was no more than would have been done at any siege. All the pikemen were killed; but they could not expect a lighter fate. The houses were plundered, but houses had been plundered in every town taken before — both by Roundheads and Cavaliers — at Lancaster, at Preston, at Wigan and Warrington.
It was the indiscriminate slaughter of the in-habitants, after the garrison had surrendered, and when the town was at the entire mercy of the victors, that stamped the assault with the character of a massacre. The ruthless soldiers spared none — old men, women, children.
Four divines were killed — one a venerable man with grey locks, who had stationed himself at the foot of the cross in the market-place, and lifted up his voice to denounce them, had his skull cloven by a dragoon. The streets resounded with the shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying, and the kennels ran with blood.
Neither Rupert nor the earl interposed to check the slaughter. In the market- place, as we have said, the carnage was frightful; and it was here that all the divines we have mentioned were killed.
One of these addressed the earl in words that proved prophetic.
“Thou hast destroyed Bolton,” he said, with his dying breath; “but thou shalt not escape. When brought here to die — as thou shalt be — thou wilt remember this day.”
Standish took as little part as he could help in these dreadful scenes. His soul revolted from them, and he would have shut his eyes if he could to the terrible sights forced upon him.
On Rupert’s entrance into the town he obtained a horse, and feeling sure Rigby would seek safety in flight, his great desire was to prevent him. And he had well nigh succeeded.
Discovering that Rigby had contrived to get out of the town with a small party of horse, and was making all haste he could towards
Bury, Standish put himself at the head of a score of dragoons, and galloped after him.
He continued the pursuit for a couple of miles, and might have overtaken the fugitive, if a body of Parliamentarians had not been seen advancing in the opposite direction. These men were no doubt hastening to the relief of Bolton, but were too late. They came, however, in time to rescue Rigby, and escorted him to Bury, while Standish was compelled to return without his expected prize to Bolton.
CHAPTER VI
How Standish met Rosworm for the last Time
WHEN Standish approached the town, he found Prince Rupert and the Earl of Derby with a squadron of lancers near the Bradshaw Gate. They had just been riding round the walls, and Rupert had given orders that all the colours taken in the assault should be brought to him.
They proved to be twenty-two in number, and all had been displayed at the Leaguer of Lathom.
“What of Rigby?” cried the earl, as Standish came up.
“He has fled to Bury,” replied Standish.
“And left his army to perish! Ignoble dastard!” exclaimed the prince.
“He has baulked my vengeance by flight,” cried the earl, with a look of deep disappointment. “’Tis well for him he has got away. But we may meet again.”
“Think of him no more!” cried Rupert. “Think of the countess — and how overjoyed she will be at our victory. You must send her word of it without delay.”
“May I bear the message to her ladyship?” cried Standish, eagerly.
“I would fain send you,” observed the earl. “But you must be fatigued.”
“I have strength enough left to reach Lathom,” rejoined Standish. “I pray your lordship not to refuse my request.”
“Let him have his wish,” said the prince. “He is not wanted here. Hark ye, Captain Standish! you shall do more than convey a message to the Countess of Derby from her valiant lord. Commend me heartily to her ladyship, and present these colours to her. Tell her they have just been taken at Bolton.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 783
