Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715

The countess was in excellent spirits, and laughed at the threatened visit of the magistrates. If the earl was not equally free from apprehension, he contrived to assume a cheerful aspect.

Next morning, soon after daybreak, Lord Denventwater arose. The countess was still slumbering, but before he took his departure he stooped down to print a kiss on her brow. Instantly awakened, she flung her arms round his neck and bade him adieu.

“I have had a very happy dream,” she said; “and I hope it may come true. I thought the king was restored, and chiefly by your instrumentality.”

“Much has to be done ere that can be accomplished,” rejoined the earl. “But I do not despair.”

“I wish you could remain here, and resist the officers,” she said. “How pleased I should be to see them driven hence!”

“There is no chance of such a result,” said the earl. “We must bide our time. In a few days we shall take the field.”

Tenderly embracing her, he then quitted the room.

None of the household were astir as Lord Derwentwater went forth. He gave one look at the mansion, heaved a deep sigh, and proceeded towards the wood.

The morning was grey and misty, the trees in the park could scarcely be distinguished, and the brook at the bottom of the glen was hidden by vapour.

Gloomy thoughts likewise possessed him, and as he tracked the sombre alley, he thought he beheld a female figure, arrayed in white, advancing towards him.

Not doubting it was the Maiden, he instantly stopped.

In another moment the phantom stood before him. Its looks were sad and compassionate, but it spoke not, and terror kept him dumb.

After remaining thus transfixed for a few moments, he broke the spell and moved forwards, but the phantom waved him back, and he again halted.

With another warning gesture, accompanied by a look of indescribable pity, the figure vanished.

Not for some minutes after issuing from the alley, did the earl recover from the shock he had received, and he was still leaning for support against a tree, when he was roused by the approach of the woodcutter and his dog.

“I fear your lordship is unwell?” remarked Nathan.

“No,” replied the earl, “but I have been much alarmed. I have just seen the Maiden.”

“Then I don’t wonder your lordship is disturbed,” said the woodcutter. “May I venture to ask what occurred?”

“The spirit warned me to turn back,” said the earl. “But it is now too late.”

The woodcutter made no remark, but seemed to think that the warning ought not to be neglected.

On reaching the hut, Lord Derwentwater threw himself into the arm-chair and presently fell asleep. Nor did he awake for some hours.

During this interval, Dame Blacklaw moved about as noiselessly as she could, so as not to disturb him – Cheviot crouched at his feet – and Nathan went on with his work outside; but he left it, ever and anon, for a short space, while he flew to the skirts of the woods to reconnoitre.

V. – HOW CHARLES RADCLYFFE PROVOKED SIR WILLIAM LORRAINE

About nine o’clock on the same morning, the Newcastle magistrates arrived at the castle. They were attended by certain subordinate officers, armed with sword and pistol, and by a party of horse-militia.

As the gate had been thrown wide open by the porter, they all rode into the court, and the chief persons – three in number – proceeded to the entrance and dismounted.

Among them was Sir William Lorraine, who, though he had long ceased to be high sheriff, was still a magistrate. As on the former expedition, Sir William was accompanied by his active agent, Jesmond, who was determined not to be duped on the present occasion. While the magistrates and the others entered the court, Jesmond and his comrade Hedgeley fastened up their horses and proceeded to the garden to look about them.

As may well be supposed, the noise and clatter caused by this large party of horsemen, had brought forth all the servants, and when the magistrates dismounted at the steps, they were met by Newbiggin and two or three others.

In return to their obeisances, Sir William, as the principal magistrate, said in a loud authoritative tone to Newbiggin:

“Conduct us at once to the Earl of Derwentwater. We hold a warrant for his arrest.”

“His lordship is not within,” replied the butler, with formal politeness.

“Where is he?” demanded Sir William. “We must see him.”

“I don’t see how that can be managed, Sir William, seeing that his lordship is in Lancashire,” rejoined Newbiggin.

“In Lancashire!” exclaimed Sir William. “He must have travelled very quickly. I know he was here yesterday.”

“Yes, Sir William, but he intended to ride throughout the night, and I make no doubt he is in Lancashire this morning.”

“Then he has fled?”

“Pardon me, Sir William, he has gone on a visit to some of his Roman Catholic friends.”

“Harkee, sirrah!” cried Mr. Woodburn, another of the magistrates. “Take care how you attempt to deceive us. You will not go unpunished.”

“Perhaps you would like to see her ladyship, gentlemen – or Mr. Charles Radclyffe?” said Mr. Newbiggin.

“It will be necessary to see them both, and to search the house as well,” said Mr. Woodburn.

“You will be good enough to state your wishes to her ladyship, sir,” rejoined the butler. “I dare say she will make no objection. Be pleased to step this way, gentlemen.”

He then conducted them across the hall to the diningroom, where they found Lady Derwentwater, Mr. Charles Radclyffe and Father Norham at breakfast.

Her ladyship looked very charming in her morning toilette, and seemed in no way discomposed by the entrance of the magistrates. Still holding the cup of chocolate, from which she was sipping, she arose and made them a formal courtesy.

“These gentlemen are Newcastle magistrates, my lady,” said the butler significantly.

“I understand,” she replied. “You have explained that his lordship is not at home?”

“Yes, my lady; but they are not content with my assurance.”

“Your ladyship must be fully aware,” said Sir William, sententiously, “that the Earl of Derwentwater has incurred the suspicion of Government, and will not therefore be surprised to learn that we hold a warrant for his arrest. We cannot depart without him.”

“That implies a doubt as to the truth of the statement you have just heard, that his lordship is not at home,” observed the countess.

“Where her husband’s safety is concerned a wife may perhaps consider herself justified in duping the authorities,” remarked Sir William. “If I seem to doubt your ladyship’s word, you must excuse me.”

“Then I will say no more, but leave you to take your own course,” she rejoined.

“We will put your ladyship to as little inconvenience as we can,” said Mr. Woodburn. “But we must search the house.”

“Search as much as you please, gentlemen, you will be disappointed,” remarked Charles Radclyffe. “I will give you my head if you find Lord Derwentwater here.”

“I know you to be a man of honour, sir,” said Sir William, “and therefore am inclined to believe you.”

“Inclined to believe me, sir!” exclaimed Charles Radclyffe, furiously. “‘Sdeath, sir, you shall believe me, or render an immediate account of your incredulity.”

“If you have a quarrel to arrange, pray step out upon the lawn,” remarked Lady Derwentwater.

“At any other time, I should not refuse Mr. Charles Radclyffe’s challenge,” said Sir William. “But just now I have a duty to perform, and shall not be deterred by an idle threat. I must again express my conviction that Lord Derwentwater is concealed in the house.”

“Then make a careful search, Sir William,” said the countess. “And if you cannot disprove Mr. Charles Radclyffe’s assertion, you are bound to offer him an apology.”

Turning to Father Norham, she added, “Your reverence will be good enough to conduct these gentlemen over the house. Go with them, likewise, Newbiggin.”

“I shall take leave to make one of the party,” said Charles Radclyffe.

Thereupon, they quitted the dining-room, leaving the countess alone.

This was the second time that Sir William Lorraine had made a perquisition of the house, and he was able, therefore, to get through the business with despatch. But he had to brook a great many insolent observations from Charles Radclyffe, who lost no opportunity of provoking him. The search occupied more than an hour, and when it was concluded, and the magistrates were obliged to confess their failure, Charles burst into a contemptuous laugh, and said:

“This is on a par with your great feat at Bamborough, Sir William, which gained you so much reputation in the county, when you were high sheriff.”

“You do well to remind me of the trick played upon me at that time,” said Sir William, greatly exasperated. “I have not forgotten it, though Mr. Forster and some others may wish I had. I think, sir, you will be safest at Newcastle, and since I cannot secure Lord Derwentwater, I will take you with me, and hold you as a hostage for your brother.”

“Do not imagine I will accompany you, Sir William,” said Charles.

“You will have no option,” rejoined the other. “You will be taken as a prisoner.”

“I scarcely think so,” said Charles. “You have no warrant, and I will resist any attempt to arrest me.”

This angry colloquy took place in the hall, and was overheard by several of the servants, who were ready to rush to Charles Radclyffe’s assistance should he need them.

Just then Jesmond and Hedgeley came in, and the magistrates called out to them.

Profiting by this interval, Father Norham urged the rash young man to fly, and he yielded to the counsel.

Drawing his sword, he ran along a passage communicating with the terrace. But he was quickly followed both by the magistrates and the officers, and it seemed that a conflict would take place on the terrace, for the servants were likewise hurrying to the same spot.

The windows of the dining-room, in which the countess was still sitting, commanded the scene of action, and hearing a noise she came forward to see what was taking place.

She beheld Charles Radclyffe standing there, with his drawn sword, threatening any one who approached him. Feeling however, that if any catastrophe occurred the consequences would be disastrous, he formed a different resolution, and at once acted upon it.

Springing to the side of the terrace, that bordered the ravine, he flung his sword into the hollow, and then plunged down the rocky sides of the abyss, certain no one would follow him in this perilous descent.

Those who looked down from the terrace, saw him reach the banks of the Devil’s Water in safety, pick up his sword, and then disappear among the bushes.

Jesmond, who had drawn a pistol, would have fired at him, but this Sir William Lorraine would not allow.

“Capture him, if you can,” he said. “But he must not be wounded – unless he resists.”

But it did not appear likely that anything more would be seen of him.

VI. – HOW CHARLES RADCLYFFE JOINED THE EARL AT THE HUT

AFTER slumbering tranquilly for three or four hours in the arm-chair Lord Derwentwater roused himself, and breakfasted with a very good appetite on the simple fare provided for him by Dame Blacklaw.

He next occupied himself in examining some papers which he carried in a small portfolio, and was still thus employed when Cheviot, who had never left him, suddenly raised his head, and gave a low growl.

“He hears something,” observed Dame Blacklaw. “But there can be no danger, or Nathan would have come to warn your lordship.”

After listening for a moment, Cheviot got up and began to whine, and the door being opened, he rushed forth and a joyous bark was instantly heard outside.

Curious to learn who was there, Lord Derwentwater hastily put up his papers, and went out.

To his great surprise, he found the new-comer was his brother, who told him in a few words what had taken place, and though the earl blamed him for his imprudence, he felt greatly enraged against Sir William Lorraine.

“I should like to drive these magistrates from the castle,” he said.

“If you are of that mind, it may still be done,” rejoined Charles. “But for your express orders to the contrary, I would have shut the gates, and shown them fight.”

“But no preparations had been made,” said the earl.

“There you are mistaken,” returned Charles. “I was quite ready. All the tenants and retainers are stationed at the farm; all the horses have been taken there; all the arms and ammunition have been removed from the old tower, and deposited in one of the barns; all the grooms and active men-servants are likewise at the farm.”

“And you have done all this without consulting me?” cried the earl.

“It was done at the urgent request of the countess,” replied Charles. “She said, ‘It is not fitting that the Earl of Derwentwater should hide in hovels, when the gentry are in arms for their lawful sovereign. It shall never be said that the officers came to Dilston to arrest him, and were allowed to depart as they came. If no one else will do it, I will drive them hence. I disuaded her from this bold step, but I agreed to get all ready with the design of effecting your rescue if you should fall into their hands.”

“You have done well, Charles,” cried the earl, “and I thank you. Let us to the farm at once, and if the enemy are still at the castle we will soon expel them.”

“This resolution is worthy of you, my lord,” said Charles. “I fear your flight might have been misconstrued.”

Thinking Nathan might be useful, the earl bade him follow, and hastened away with his brother.

VII. – HOW THE MAGISTRATES AND THE MILITIAMEN WERE FORCED TO QUIT THE CASTLE

The farm to which reference has just been made, lay on the other side of the castle, and was distant about half a mile from the woodcutter’s hut.

The earl and his companions, however, proceeded so expeditiously that they were soon there, but as they were tracking a lane that led to the farm buildings they encountered a man, who had evidently been reconnoitring the place, and instantly secured him.

This proved to be Jesmond, and though armed, he did not offer any resistance – probably thinking it would be useless. Disarming him, and giving the weapons to Nathan, the earl told the latter to shoot the man if he attempted to fly.

An additional guard was found in Cheviot, who had followed his master, and cut off all chance of the prisoner’s escape.

In some respects this was an important capture, and the earl hoped to turn it to account. At any rate, he had ascertained that the party were still at the castle, and felt sure he should take them by surprise.

On entering the farm-yard the earl found between thirty and forty stalwart yeomen collected there.

All of them had got good strong horses, and had pistols in their holsters and swords by the side. With them were half a dozen grooms. The sight of these sturdy fellows sent a thrill through the earl’s breast, and he reproached himself with not having confided to them the defence of the castle. They would have set up a shout on his appearance, but he checked them. Very few minutes sufficed to arrange matters. All the yeomen were quickly in the saddle.

Mounted on his favourite dapple-grey steed, which had been brought to the farmyard, the Earl of Derwentwater put himself at the head of his troop, and bade them follow him to the castle – but ere they arrived there they received an important reinforcement.

Colonel Oxburgh, Captain Wogan, and the rest of that gallant little band, who still held together, were then at Hexham, and having learnt that the magistrates of Newcastle, attended by a party of horse-militia, designed to arrest Lord Derwentwater, they set off to the earl’s assistance, and arrived in the very nick of time.

They were galloping up the chestnut avenue at the very time when the earl brought his troop from the farm. An immediate explanation took place; and on hearing how matters stood, Colonel Oxburgh exclaimed, “I think we can take them prisoners.”

They then rode quickly forward, and finding that the whole of the militiamen were in the court, they drew up in front of the gate, so as to prevent the departure of the intruders.

After this successful manouvre, which was very quickly executed, Lord Derwentwater and the principal persons with him advanced into the court.

Here all was confusion and dismay. Most of the militiamen had dismounted, and were scattered about the court in a very disorderly manner.

While their leader was shouting to them to mount, Lord Derwentwater dashed up to him, and seizing his bridle, demanded his sword.

The officer held back for a moment, but seeing that the gate was strongly guarded, and retreat impossible, he yielded, and the men did not seem inclined to offer any further opposition.

Hitherto the magistrates had been inside the house, but they now came forth to see what was going on, and no sooner had they done so than the door was shut and barred behind them.

They were contemplating the scene with dismay, when Lord Derwentwater and his friends came up.

“The tables are turned, you perceive, gentlemen,” said the earl, in a mocking tone. “You have come here to arrest me, and are made prisoners yourselves.”

“But your lordship won’t detain us,” rejoined Sir William.

“I have no wish to put you to inconvenience, but I shall not let you go, unless you engage to return direct to Newcastle.”

After a short consultation with his brother magistrates, Sir William said, “We agree.”

“You must also deliver up the warrant, and undertake that no further attempt shall be made to arrest me,” said the earl.

“Your lordship must feel that we cannot enter into such an engagement,” replied Mr. Woodburn. “We will deliver up the warrant, but we cannot tell what steps may be taken.”

“Well, I advise you not to come again on the like errand,” said the earl. “One of your officers has fallen into my hands. I shall keep him as a hostage, and if aught happens contrary to our present understanding, I will most assuredly shoot him. Now, gentlemen, you are free to depart as soon as you please.”

Thereupon, the magistrates came down from the perron, on the summit of which they had been standing, and mounted their horses.

By this time all the militiamen were in the saddle, and ready for departure. They muttered threats against the Jacobites, but were glad to escape a conflict with them. When Jesmond found he was to be detained, he begged hard to be set free; but his entreaties were disregarded.

The yeomen who had hitherto blocked up the gateway were now removed by Charles Radclyffe, and there was nothing to prevent the departure of the intruders, when a large upper window of the mansion was opened, and the Countess of Derwentwater appeared at it.

In her hand she bore a silken banner, embroidered with the badge of the Chevalier de Saint George. Waving the banner above the assemblage, she called out in a loud clear voice, distinctly heard by all, “Long live King James the Third! and down with the Hanoverian Usurper!”

Deafening shouts arose from the Jacobites, amidst which the magistrates and the militiamen passed through the gateway.

VIII. – HOW THE EARL TOOK LEAVE OF THE COUNTESS

At length the decisive step is taken,” cried Lord Der-wentwater. “Now there can be no turning back. I do not think it will be safe to remain longer at Dilston, and I would join Forster if I knew where to find him.”

“Two days hence he will be at Rothbury,” said Colonel Oxburgh. “I had a letter from him by express this very morning. He is moving about the country, picking up all the recruits he can. He has now, it seems, got forty or fifty gentlemen with him – all High Church Tories, of course – and all well mounted and well armed.”

“A good beginning,” cried the earl. “I will set out at once for Rothbury, and take all my own men with me. No doubt, we shall largely increase our force, as soon as we take the field.”

“That is certain,” said Colonel Oxburgh. “But we must get together without delay. Since Forster will not come here, we must go to him. Do not let your resolution cool, my lord. Let us start at once!”

“It shall be so,” cried the earl.

The determination was acted upon. The men displayed great loyalty and spirit. On being informed by the earl that he was about to take the field forthwith, they expressed the utmost willingness to follow him, and fight for King James.

As the Earl of Derwentwater was too devout to start on such an expedition as the present, without invoking Divine aid and protection, and as all his tenants and retainers were of the same religion as himself, mass was performed by Father Norham in the little chapel, at which the whole party assisted. The countess likewise was present, and was deeply affected.

It was a touching sight to see all those rude soldiers kneeling there and imploring Heaven’s blessing upon their amis. But there were others there, equally earnest in their prayers – Colonel Oxburgh and his brave companions, with Charles Radclyffe. All these were gathered in front of the altar near the earl, and received the priestly benediction.

When the service was over, all immediately left the chapel, except the earl and countess, who remained there for a short time longer.

Their parting was sorrowful, for both felt they might never meet again. The countess was more overcome than she expected. During the visit of the magistrates she had been greatly excited, but a reaction had since taken place, and she was now proportionately depressed. Her beautiful head fell upon the earl’s breast, and she wept aloud.

“I do not like to leave you thus, dearest Anna,” he said.

“Heed me not!” she rejoined, gazing at him with streaming eyes. “This will soon be past. I would not have you defer your departure for an hour on my account. Come back as soon as you can – but come not back till you have restored the king!”

“Then I may never return,” said the earl, gloomily.

“Do not despair!” she cried. “Be of good heart, and you will triumph. Night and morn, I will pray at this altar for success to your arms. And since your cause is just, Heaven will grant my prayer! And now farewell! If you stay too long here, your resolution may waver.”

“No fear of that!” cried the earl, again straining her to his breast. “Farewell! farewell!”

He then tore himself away, but when he reached the door of the chapel, he turned to take a last look at her.

She was again kneeling at the altar, and did not see him.

Meanwhile, the yeomen had been taken to the butler’s pantry, where they lost no time in discussing the plentiful repast prepared for them, and having washed down the viands with some jugs of strong ale, re-mounted their horses.

Refreshments and wine were likewise served in the entrance-hall, of which the Jacobite gentlemen partook.

Before going forth each drank the king’s health in a large goblet of claret, and each drew his sword and devoted it to the king’s service.

Soon after this the court was empty, and the various horsemen, who had lately filled it, were seen speeding along the chestnut avenue, with the Earl of Denventwater at their head, mounted on his dapple-grey steed.

IX. – MAD-JACK HALL OF OTTERBURN

Halting at Corbridge, the earl and his companions drew their swords, and proclaimed James the Third.

Here half a dozen gentlemen joined them, and they obtained some further recruits as they went on.

One of the chief partisans of the Stuarts in the county was Mr. Hall, of Otterburn, in Redesdale. A man of ancient family and considerable property, but of eccentric character and ungovernable temper, he was known by the name of “Mad Jack Hall of Otterburn.”

Under ordinary circumstances it was difficult to get on with a person so quarrelsome, and he was therefore left out of many Jacobite meetings; but it being now necessary that every friend of the cause should be mustered, Squire Hall was far too important to be omitted. Lord Derwentwater had therefore resolved to visit Otterburn, and see what could be done with the crazy laird. He mentioned his design to Colonel Oxburgh and the others, who entirely approved of it.

About four o’clock in the afternoon, after riding for the most part across the country, they entered a wild district, erstwhile the scene of many a Border foray; and after tracking it for some miles reached the picturesque village of Otterburn, where the famous battle was fought.