The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “No, my lord,” replied Galliard. “I received it from his majesty’s own hands, and he bade me tell your lordship that it must be instantly obeyed. I have ridden as hard as I could from Nottingham.”

  “I would you had arrived an hour later, for the attack would then have commenced,” said the earl. “Never before did I feel inclined to disobey his majesty’s order. What shall I do, Tyldesley?”

  “I dare not counsel you, my lord,” replied the other. “But I know what I would do myself.”

  “No! no! I must not be disloyal,” cried the earl.

  Then turning to Sir Alexander Radcliffe and the others, he said:

  “Gentlemen, the attack will not be made. I have just received the king’s orders to raise the siege forthwith.”

  They looked at each other in surprise and consternation.

  “My lord,” said Sir Alexander Radcliffe, “the men will be greatly dissatisfied when they hear the order. They feel certain we should take the town to-day.”

  “It cannot be helped,” rejoined the earl.

  Then turning to Standish, he bade him cross the river at Ordsall, and proceed as quickly as he could to Salford to communicate the intelligence to Lord Molineux and Sir John Girlington.

  “Take Captain Galliard with you,” he added.

  Standish immediately rode off on his errand, accompanied by the messenger.

  Nothing could exceed the dissatisfaction of the soldiers when the order was made known to them.

  The arrival of Captain Galliard and his interview with the earl had been witnessed by Rosworm from the summit of the church-tower, and he at once inferred from the subsequent proceedings that the siege would be raised, and communicated his opinion to the governor.

  The opinion seemed confirmed, when no attack was made.

  All remained quiet throughout the day, and nothing was heard during the night, but when Rosworm looked from the church-tower next morn, the bridge was clear — the besiegers were gone from Salford, and from Alport Park, and had taken their ordnance with them.

  BOOK II. — CHARLOTTE DE LA TRÉMOILLE, COUNTESS OF DERBY

  CHAPTER I

  Lathom House

  ABOUT a week after the siege of Manchester had been raised in the manner previously related, the Earl of Derby, accompanied by Lord Molineux and Sir John Girlington, and attended by a large body of men, set out from Wigan — one of the few towns in Lancashire that remained perfectly faithful to the king, and took his way towards Lathom House.

  As he came in sight of the stronghold, he remarked with a stern smile to those near him:

  “That house will never be taken by the rebels.”

  Lathom House was certainly a magnificent pile, and so large that, according to an old poem, “within it could be lodged kyngys three.” It was also at Lathom House that a former Earl of Derby had dwelt in such state, that it was said by Camden, “that with his death the glory of English hospitality had fallen asleep.” Equal hospitality had likewise been exercised in the same lordly mansion by James Earl of Derby until the breaking out of the Civil War, when he had been obliged to fortify the house, and arm the greater part of his servants and retainers.

  Nothing could be more striking and picturesque than the appearance of Lathom House, at the period of our story.

  It was a vast embattled mansion, crowned with turrets, from the midst of which rose a lofty square tower, called the Eagle Tower. From the summit of this tower was displayed the proud banner of the Stanleys, bearing the loyal motto — SANS CHANGER.

  Originally built in the reign of Henry the Seventh, Lathom House is said to have furnished that monarch with the design of Richmond Palace. Possessing a very grand and imposing exterior, it contained many noble apartments — an immense banqueting-hall, and a grand presence-chamber. Attached to it was a beautiful chapel. The outer court, which was of considerable extent, and contained large stables and other buildings intended for the garrison, was surrounded by strong battlemented walls, defended by nine towers, each provided with six large pieces of cannon — three placed to fire one way, and three the other. The walls were encompassed by an unusually wide and deep moat, the inner banks of which were defended by a row of stout palisades. The walls were strengthened internally by earthworks, two feet in thickness. The gatehouse was exceedingly lofty and strong, and its machicolated battlements and tall towers were furnished with ordnance; while the entrance was protected by a drawbridge and double portcullis.

  “There is something particular and romantic in the situation of this house,” says Archdeacon Rutter, “as if nature herself had formed it for a stronghold, or place of security. The uncommon situation of it may be compared to the palm of a man’s hand, flat in the middle, and covered with a rising round about it, and so near to it, that the enemy in two years were never able to raise a battery against it so as to make a breach in the wall practicable to enter the house by way of storm.”

  The ground on which Lathom House stood was a moorish tract but thoroughly drained by the moat. At a short distance from the mansion there was a park, and embosomed among the trees was Burscough Priory — a convent of Black Canons, founded by Robert Fitz-Henry, Lord of Lathom, in the reign of Richard the First.

  Wherever it could be seen, this strong castellated mansion, with its great gatehouse, embattled walls, numerous turrets, and lofty central tower presented a most imposing appearance.

  In the presence-chamber, and in a high-backed ebony chair, sat a majestic dame. She could not be called young, yet she was still exceedingly handsome, and possessed a full, stately figure. Her manner was dignified, and at times haughty, and her look showed she was accustomed to command. Her eyes were remarkably fine, of a dark hazel, fringed with long silken lashes, and arched over by finely pencilled brows. Her dark tresses were brought in small curls over her brow and flowed down in ringlets at the side and at the back, according to the then charming mode. She wore a collar of pearls, and large pearl ear-rings. Her gown was of black velvet, trimmed with lace, and her stomacher was adorned with pearls. In the peculiar grace of her manner, as in her speech, there was something that showed she was of French origin.

  Need we say this was Charlotte de la Trémoille, Countess of Derby? From her charms and her ability, it is not wonderful that she held such sway over her noble husband.

  With the countess were her three daughters, ranging from ten to thirteen — lovely creatures, dressed in white satin, and wearing their hair in the same becoming fashion as their mother. All three had fine bright eyes and charming features. The elder — the Lady Henriette Marie Stanley, to whom the queen had stood godmother, was tall, and possessed a slight graceful figure. When of tender age she had been contracted to Lord Molineux. Lady Katherine, the second daughter, was about a year younger than her sister, and equally beautiful. A blonde, with light blue eyes, fair tresses, a delicate complexion, she had a very gentle expression of countenance, and a very engaging manner.

  If we may be permitted to glance into the future, we may mention that the Lady Katherine was subsequently wedded to Henry Pierrepoint, second Earl of Kingston- upon-Hull, and was buried at Hurstpierpoint, in Sussex.

  The liveliest, and perhaps the most attractive of the three girls, was the Lady Amelia — a bright little brunette, with sparkling black eyes, and a brilliant complexion. Again to forecast the future, it may be mentioned that this lovely creature — her mother’s favourite — became Marchioness of Athole. She was now playing with her little brothers, Edward and William.

  Edward, a grave-looking boy then some four years old, was dressed in black velvet, and his dark hair, brought over his brow, made him look like a miniature of the earl, his father, to whom his features bore a marked resemblance. William, the youngest of the party, being scarcely three, was seated on a tabouret near the countess, and comported himself well, being a very quiet little boy.

  The children we have enumerated constituted the whole of Lord Derby’s family, with the exception of Charles, Lord Strange, born in
1628, who was then in Holland.

  A middle-aged nurse, of discreet appearance, and attired in very sober apparel, was in attendance upon the younger children.

  No one else was present at the moment, though different members of the household from time to time entered the hall. The countess looked unusually cheerful, for she expected the earl from Wigan on that day. Of necessity his lordship had been long absent from home, so that his return was eagerly looked for by his family.

  “Do you think our father will really return today, dearest mother?” inquired Lady Katherine. “We have been so often disappointed that I almost despair of beholding him again.”

  The countess heaved a sigh, for she, too, had been often disappointed; but her face brightened as she answered:

  “Yes — I feel sure you will see him to-day, Kate.”

  “But will he bring Lord Molineux with him?” cried the Lady Henriette Marie, eagerly.

  “I cannot answer for that,” replied the countess, with a smile. “But make yourself easy. Unless Lord Molineux is obliged to remain at Wigan — which I think unlikely — he will certainly come.”

  “Oh! I hope he will,” cried Henriette. “But what was that? I thought I heard a noise in the outer court. They may have arrived. Shall I go forth and see?”

  “No! stay where you are! We shall learn presently.”

  It was evident from the sounds that an arrival had taken place, and the countess herself could scarcely control her impatience, when Doctor Rutter entered the hall, and hastened towards her. His looks showed that he brought some important intelligence.

  “Prepare yourself for a great surprise, madam,” said the chaplain. “You will scarce credit me when I inform you that the queen has just arrived at the castle.”

  “Impossible! her majesty is at York,” said the countess.

  “She is at this moment in the court-yard of the castle,” replied the chaplain. “I have spoken to her myself. She has just come from York, and is proceeding to Chester. She is attended by Lord Goring and Lord Jermyn and a small escort.”

  “She runs great risk in passing thus through Lancashire,” cried the countess, who had listened in astonishment to what was told her. “But I must not sit here. Come with me, girls,” she added to her daughters, who were equally astonished with herself.

  Without waiting to give any orders to Master Cunliffe, the major-domo, who had now made his appearance with Daniel Trioche, the earl’s confidential attendant, and several other servants, she hastened forth, accompanied by her daughters and Doctor Rutter.

  CHAPTER II

  Queen Henrietta Maria

  THE court-yard was full of soldiers, for the garrison had turned out at once as soon they became aware that the queen had arrived, and shouts rent the air, while drums were beaten and trumpets blown.

  Her majesty had just dismounted from her palfrey, being assisted by Lord Goring, who was now standing beside her. Close behind were Lord Jermyn, Sir Edward Dering, and several other Cavaliers of inferior rank. Behind them was the escort, which consisted only of a party of fifty well-armed men.

  Not far from the queen stood Captain Chisenhale, Captain Rawsthorne, and Captain Ogle, with other officers of the garrison, who were waiting to conduct her majesty to the hall; but on the appearance of the countess and her daughters they stopped, and formed themselves into two lines.

  Despite the constant anxiety she had recently experienced, Queen Henrietta Maria looked remarkably well. Possessing great courage and spirit, she never succumbed to difficulties and dangers. Her personal charms were still unimpaired, her fine black eyes being brilliant as ever, and her tresses as dark and lustrous as when she first met her royal husband. Her features had lost none of their beauty. Though not tall, the queen was perfectly proportioned, and remarkable for grace.

  Her majesty wore a riding dress of green velvet embroidered with gold, and a broad-leaved Spanish hat, with a white plume, secured by a diamond buckle.

  As the countess approached, she advanced to meet her, and prevented her from making an obeisance — professing herself delighted to see her and her daughters.

  The discourse that took place between her majesty and Lady Derby was conducted in French.

  “You are right welcome to Lathom, gracious madam,” said the countess. “In my noble husband’s name, I place the castle, and all within it — men, munitions, and stores — at your entire disposal. Your majesty has only to give your orders and they will be obeyed.”

  “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, dearest countess,” replied the queen, very much touched. “I know your devotion to the king and myself, and should feel perfectly secure at Lathom, which I now find is quite as strong as it has been represented to me, but I do not propose to stay here long. I am on the way to Chester, and shall proceed thence to Oxford to join the king. My object in coming here was to consult the Earl of Derby, but I find he is absent.”

  “His lordship is momently expected from Wigan, gracious madam,” replied the countess. “But I will at once despatch a messenger to him on a fleet horse to acquaint him with your arrival.”

  “Since you expect him that is sufficient,” said the queen. “I can wait. I shall be glad to pass a short time with you and your fair daughters. How well they are looking,” she added, smiling graciously upon them, and embracing each in turn.

  “Do you know that you are my goddaughter?” she remarked to the eldest.

  “Indeed I do. I am very proud of being named after your majesty,” replied Henriette, blushing deeply.

  “I have not much to offer you, mignonne, for I have sold all my jewels to help the king. But I pray you wear this ring for my sake.”

  And as she spoke she took off a ring and placed it on Henriette’s finger.

  “I will never part with it, gracious madam,” said the noble damsel, delighted.

  While this was passing, the countess addressed Lord Goring, Lord Jermyn, Sir Edward Dering, and the rest of the queen’s attendants, and bade them welcome with the refined courtesy she knew so well how to practise.

  All the Cavaliers were splendidly accoutred, and made a very gallant show in their glittering cuirasses, richly embroidered baldricks, scarves, and plumed hats.

  As we have said, the two nobles were accounted the handsomest men belonging to the Court, and were especial favourites of the queen.

  Lord Derby believed they were secretly hostile to him, and though the countess entertained the same impression, she did not allow it to influence her reception of them.

  At this juncture the major-domo, with two yeomen-ushers, all three bearing white wands, came up, for the purpose of conducting her majesty to the house, and the queen was about to proceed thither, when an interruption occurred. Trumpets were blown from the summit of the gate-house, announcing the Earl of Derby’s return, and, on hearing these sounds, the queen remained stationary.

  Immediately afterwards the great gates were thrown open, and the earl, with Lord Molineux, Sir Thomas Tyldesley, Sir John Girlington, and closely attended by Captain Standish, rode into the court, followed by a large troop of horse. Loud shouts at the same time arose from the garrison, who were rejoiced to behold their lord again.

  Great was Lord Derby’s surprise when he found the place occupied as we have described; but the moment he learnt that the queen was present, he flung himself from the saddle, and made his way to the spot where she was standing, followed by Lord Molineux and the others.

  “Welcome! thrice welcome! gracious madam,” he cried, bending the knee before her. “Lathom is greatly honoured by this unlooked-for visit. Could I have anticipated it, I would have made every preparation for your reception! But I frankly own I did not expect to find your majesty here.”

  “Nor had I any such intention when I left York, my lord,” she replied, praying him to rise. “I will explain the object of my visit anon. For a time I place myself under your care, knowing I shall be well guarded by the loyal Earl of Derby,”

  “Your majesty is as
safe here as you were at York,” replied the earl. “Deign to enter the house.”

  Then bowing haughtily to the Lords Goring and Jermyn, he conducted her majesty towards the entrance of the house, preceded by the major-domo and the ushers — a large retinue of servants having ranged themselves on either side of the steps.

  Seeing that the queen desired to confer with him in private, Lord Derby led her to the lower end of the presence-chamber.

  No one followed them. All the courtiers and Royalist gentlemen remained with the countess, in the centre of the large apartment.

  “Madam,” said the earl, “I am prepared to listen to aught your majesty may have to say to me.”

  “My lord,” said the queen, after a brief pause, “I am aware that your loyalty has been heavily taxed, and very inadequately rewarded — but I must put it to a further test.”

  “Hesitate not to command me, madam. Aught I can do for his majesty and yourself shall be done.”

  “You have, indeed, a noble and a generous heart, my lord,” said the queen. “I was told you deeply resented some supposed injuries done you, and attributed them to my influence with the king. But I resolved to trust you. I am here — in your stronghold. Were you the traitor your enemies would have me believe, you could deliver me up, and make your own terms with the Parliament.”

  “Those who have charged me with treasonable designs have belied me, madam,” rejoined the earl, with difficulty controlling himself, and speaking with forced calmness. “This is not the moment to call them to account, but the time will come when I will force them to confess the falsehood. I will make no idle professions of loyalty. My acts speak for themselves. But thus much I will say — I am ready to sacrifice my life for the king, and all my possessions are at his majesty’s disposal. With such feelings could I prove faithless to your majesty?”

  “No, my lord,” replied the queen, emphatically; “nor did I ever suspect you of treachery. But let us dismiss this matter. I have come to you for aid, and I do not think you will refuse it me.”