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- Herausgeber: Ktoczyta.pl
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
This book is about the civil war in Lancashire. Like any war, this story cannot but leave impressions after itself. You will be immersed in history and characters.
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Contents
BOOK I. THE SIEGE OF MANCHESTER
CHAPTER I. A Presage of Ill
CHAPTER II. Lord Strange
CHAPTER III. The Dying Earl
CHAPTER IV. Prince Rupert
CHAPTER V. Charles the First
CHAPTER VI. Colonel Rosworm
CHAPTER VII. Gertrude Rosworm
CHAPTER VIII. Alport Lodge
CHAPTER IX. A View of Old Manchester from the Tower of the Collegiate Church
CHAPTER X. Warden Heyrick and Mr. Bourne
CHAPTER XI. The Assault
CHAPTER XII. Captain Cranage
CHAPTER XIII. Rosworm proposes to burn Alport Lodge
CHAPTER XIV. The Nocturnal Thanksgiving
CHAPTER XV. The Sortie
CHAPTER XVI. The Burning of Alport Lodge
CHAPTER XVII. Whither Gertrude was taken
CHAPTER XVIII. The Earl of Derby has an Interview with Rosworm
CHAPTER XIX. How Rosworm got the Earl out of the Town
CHAPTER XX. How the Siege was Raised by Command of the King
BOOK II. CHARLOTTE DE LA TRÉMOILLE, COUNTESS OF DERBY
CHAPTER I. Lathom House
CHAPTER II. Queen Henrietta Maria
CHAPTER III. What the Queen beheld from the Eagle Tower
CHAPTER IV. How Gertrude Rosworm arrived at Lathom House
CHAPTER V. How Gertrude personated the Queen
BOOK III. THE STORMING OF LANCASTER
CHAPTER I. Hoghton Tower
CHAPTER II. The Spanish Man-of-War
CHAPTER III. Engracia
CHAPTER IV. How Don Fortunio and his Daughter were received by the Countess of Derby
CHAPTER V. Love and Jealousy
CHAPTER VI. How the Mayor of Lancaster was summoned by the Earl of Derby to surrender the Tower
CHAPTER VII. How Lancaster was taken by the Earl
CHAPTER VIII. How Preston surrendered to the Earl of Derby
CHAPTER IX. How Frank Standish brought news of the Surrender of Preston
CHAPTER X. How Hoghton Tower was blown up
CHAPTER XI. How Lord Goring brought a Despatch from the King to the Earl of Derby
BOOK IV. THE SURRENDER OF WARRINGTON
CHAPTER I. The Countess proposes to write to Prince Rupert
CHAPTER II. What passed between Standish and Gertrude
CHAPTER III. How Gertrude accompanied Standish
CHAPTER IV. How Gertrude found her Father at Wigan
CHAPTER V. How Gertrude warned the Earl that Warrington was in danger
CHAPTER VII. How Standish returned from his Mission
CHAPTER VIII. How the Earl took his Departure for the Isle of Man
BOOK V. THE BELEAGUERED MANSION
CHAPTER I. Of the Garrison at Lathom House
CHAPTER II. How Captain Markland brought a Letter from Sir Thomas FairfaX. to the Countess
CHAPTER III. How Captain Markland brought a second Letter from Sir Thomas Fairfax, and in what Manner the Countess replied to it
CHAPTER IV. How Sir Thomas FairfaX. came to Lathom House, and what passed between him and the Countess
CHAPTER V. How a Stand in the Park was destroyed by Rigby, and a Mill burnt
CHAPTER VI. What happened in the Ruins of Burscough Priory
CHAPTER VII. Of the Message brought by Colonel Morgan to the Countess
CHAPTER VIII. How the Intrenchments were made
CHAPTER IX. Of the Sortie made by Captains Chisenhale and Standish
CHAPTER X. Of the important Prisoner brought in by Standish
CHAPTER XI. How the Countess received a Visit from several Royalist Gentlemen
CHAPTER XII. How Rosworm was taken by Standish to the Guard-room in the Gate-house
CHAPTER XIII. In what Manner a Letter was sent to Colonel Rosworm
CHAPTER XIV. A Traitor punished
CHAPTER XV. How a Letter sent by the Earl of Derby to FairfaX. was brought by Captain Ashhurst to the Countess
CHAPTER XVI. How two Pieces of Ordnance were seized by Standish
CHAPTER XVII. Of the Preparations made for a Grand Sortie
CHAPTER XVIII. Of the Daring Deeds done by the Cavaliers in the Sortie; and how the New Fort was taken by Standish
CHAPTER XIX. How a Council of War was held by the Besiegers; and how a Day of Fasting and Prayer was appointed by Fairfax
CHAPTER XX. How a Cannon-shot fired by the Besiegers burst into the Countess’s Chamber
CHAPTER XXI. Of the Experiments made by the Besiegers with the Great Mortar
CHAPTER XXII. How a Summons was sent by Rigby to the Countess to yield up the Castle and sue for Mercy to the Parliament; and of the Answer she returned
CHAPTER XXIII. Showing how the Great Mortar was captured by Standish and Chisenhale
CHAPTER XXIV. How Colonel Holland promised to bring Reinforcements from Manchester
CHAPTER XXV. Of Asaph the Avenger, and the terrible Crime he committed
CHAPTER XXVI. Of Gertrude’s last Parting with Standish
CHAPTER XXVII. How the Soldiers of the Garrison looked their last on their Favourite
CHAPTER XXVIII. How a Letter was brought to the Countess from her Husband
CHAPTER XXIX. How Standish encountered Rosworm
CHAPTER XXX. How Standish found Engracia at Knowsley
CHAPTER XXXI. How the Jewels were sold to Simon Ophir, the Liverpool Jew
BOOK VI. PRINCE RUPERT
CHAPTER I. Of the Royalist Force under Prince Rupert
CHAPTER II. How Standish returned to Lathom House, but stayed to sup at Knowsley on the Way thither
CHAPTER III. How Stockport Bridge was defended by Colonels Duckenfield and Mainwaring, and how it was taken by Prince Rupert and the Earl of Derby
CHAPTER IV. Of the brief Visit paid by Prince Rupert to the Countess
BOOK VII. THE STORMING OF BOLTON
CHAPTER I. How Bolton was assaulted; and how the Attack was repulsed
CHAPTER II. How Stephen Marsh offered to take Two Hundred Musketeers into the Town
CHAPTER III. What passed between Colonel Rigby and Rosworm
CHAPTER IV. How Engracia and her Father escaped by the subterranean Passage
CHAPTER V. The Second Assault, and the Massacre
CHAPTER VI. How Standish met Rosworm for the last Time
CHAPTER VII. How the Colours taken at Bolton were presented to the Countess
CHAPTER VIII. Again on the Eagle Tower
CHAPTER IX. How Prince Rupert visited Lathom House
CHAPTER X. How a Banquet was given in the Great Hall, and a Bonfire lighted in the Court- yard
CHAPTER XI. Of the Marriage that took place in the Chapel
CHAPTER XII. The Siege of Liverpool
CHAPTER XIII. Death of Standish
BOOK VIII. SEVEN YEARS LATER
CHAPTER I. The Earl of Derby’s last journey
CHAPTER II. The Headsman
CHAPTER III. A Tumult
CHAPTER IV. The Block
CHAPTER V. Martyrdom
BOOK I. THE SIEGE OF MANCHESTER
CHAPTER I. A Presage of Ill
LATE one night, in the disastrous year 1642, soon after the commencement of the Civil War, as Lord Strange was alone in his closet at Knowsley Hall, reading a treatise by Cardan, blood fell suddenly upon the book. Being in a very melancholy frame of mind at the time, he was powerfully affected by the occurrence, and could not help regarding it as a presage of ill.
As soon as he had recovered his composure, he addressed a prayer to Heaven for the safety and welfare of the king, and his own preservation from sudden and violent death, and had not long risen from his knees, when a tap at the door was heard, and next moment, a grave-looking person-age, whose dress proclaimed him a divine, entered the closet.
This was Doctor Samuel Rutter, Archdeacon of Man, and Lord Strange’s domestic chaplain. He had been absent for some months, having duties to perform in the Isle of Man, and had only returned on that very evening. He had seen his noble patron on his arrival at Knowsley Hall, and thought him looking very unwell, but little passed between them at the time. After they had separated for the night, an unaccountable uneasiness came over him, and being unable to shake off the feeling, he repaired to his lordship’s study, being aware that he had not retired to rest, and was much relieved by finding him seated composedly in his chair.
“Now Heaven be praised that I find your lord-ship well!” exclaimed the archdeacon. “I have been much troubled concerning you, and could not seek my couch till I had satisfied my mind that you had not been seized by some sudden illness.”
Thanking him for his solicitude, Lord Strange said, “In truth, I have not been well, but am now somewhat better. Sit down, I pray you, my good friend. I shall be glad to have some converse with you.”
As Doctor Rutter placed his taper on the table, his eye fell upon the blood- stained book, and he uttered an exclamation of astonishment and horror.
“Has this just happened, my lord?” he asked.
“Scarce half an hour ago,” replied Lord Strange. “Shut the book, I pray you, and put it aside.”
Doctor Rutter obeyed, and remarked, as he sat down:
“This portent must not be disregarded, my lord. Be warned, I entreat you. Take no further part in the conflict between the king and the rebellious Parliament, but live in quiet and retirement till the struggle is over. I know my counsel will be unpalatable, but it is prompted by duty to your lord-ship. After the spectacle I have just beheld, I cannot hold my tongue. Be warned, I repeat. Advance not on this path of danger, or it may lead to your destruction. You may share the fate of Strafford.”
“It may be so,” replied Lord Strange; “but I shall go on. I would not desert the king at this juncture, even if I were certain that the direful consequences you predict would ensue.”
“I would your fidelity and devotion were better appreciated by his majesty, my lord. All the great efforts you have made for him appear to have been counteracted by his advisers, several of whom are evidently inimical to you.”
“You are right,” said Lord Strange. “They have persuaded the king that I am ambitious, and have pretensions to the crown like my uncle Ferdinando, and they say I shall desert him as my ancestor, Lord Stanley, deserted , Richard the Third at Bosworth Field, when he gave the crown to his son-in-law, the Earl of Richmond. His majesty, therefore, views my conduct with jealousy and suspicion. When I joined him at York, I met with a cold reception, but soon discovered why I was so treated, and strove to disabuse his mind of his unjust and unfounded suspicions. “Sire,’ I said, “if it were true that I am plotting against you, I should merit death. Let him who dares charge me with treason stand forth, and I will pick the calumny from his lips with the point of my sword.’ Lord Goring, Lord Digby, and Lord Jermyn were present at the time–but not one of them answered the challenge.”
“And what said the king?” asked Doctor Rutter.
“He prayed me to have patience; adding, “this is not a time, when the rebels are marching against me, to quarrel amongst ourselves.’”
“Methinks the rebels themselves must have seen their own advantage in the unworthy treatment thus shown you, my lord,” remarked Rutter, “and have sought to win you over.”
“You have guessed right,” said Lord Strange. “A despatch was shortly afterwards sent me by Colonel Holland, commander of the garrison in Manchester, stating that he was aware of the great indignity put upon me by the king’s evil counsellors, who were the enemies of the nation, and that if I would engage in the cause of the Parliament, I should have a command equal to my own greatness, or to that of any of my ancestors. My reply to the insolent proposition was prompt and decisive. I bade the messenger tell Colonel Holland, that when he heard I had turned traitor, I would listen to his offers. Till then, if I received such another despatch it would be at the peril of him who brought it.”
“The answer was worthy of you, my lord,” said the chaplain; “and well calculated to put to shame the king’s advisers. Surely, after this, his majesty could entertain no suspicion of you?”
“An idea once fixed upon the king’s mind is not easily removed. My motives have been misrepresented throughout. Thus, when I assembled upwards of sixty thousand efficient men on the moors near Bury, Ormskirk, and Preston, I was authoritatively forbidden to take the command of the force, and these potent auxiliaries were lost to the king, because they would serve no other leader but myself. Many of them went over to the rebels. Had this large force been retained, and augmented as it could have been, the king might have marched on in triumph to London, and have effectually crushed the rebellion.”
“"Tis lamentable,” remarked Doctor Rutter. “But his majesty’s eyes have been blinded.”
“Though deeply hurt by the treatment I have experienced,” pursued Lord Strange, “I did not desist from my efforts, but without delay raised three troops of horse, and three regiments of foot, which I armed and equipped, and prepared to join the king at Warrington, where it had been agreed that the royal standard should be reared. Once more the counsels of my enemies prevailed, and to the king’s disadvantage. Warrington, where I am omnipotent, as I need not tell you, was abandoned, and Nottingham chosen, where I have no influence whatever. At the same time, without any reason assigned for the step, I was deprived of the lieutenancy of Cheshire and North Wales, and Lord Rivers was joined in commission with me for Lancashire.”
“I marvel your lordship could forgive the affront. But I know your loyalty is unchangeable.”
“I shall not cease to serve the king faithfully, even though he should continue to requite me with ingratitude,” said Lord Strange; “nor shall I abate my zeal, even though his cause should become hopeless. I am now awaiting his majesty’s orders to attack Manchester. I could easily have taken the place two months ago, when I seized upon the magazine, and carried off the powder stored within it by Colonel Holland, but I had no orders at the time, and might have been blamed for precipitancy. Since then the town has been fortified by an engineer named Rosworm, and it can now stand a siege.”
“Your lordship surprises me,” observed Rutter. “Who is this Rosworm, of whom you speak? I have not heard of him.”
“A very skilful German engineer, who has had plenty of experience in his own country, where he served under Wallenstein,” replied Lord Strange. “He has been in Ireland, but on the outbreak of the rebellion of the Roman Catholics there, he came to England, and found his way to Manchester, where he has been engaged by Colonel Holland and the other rebel leaders to fortify the town. And he has done his work well. When I first heard of his arrival I sent messengers to offer him double pay if he would serve the king, but he refused to break his engagement with the rebels.”
“That speaks well for his honesty at all events,” remarked Doctor Rutter.
“Ay, he is a brave fellow, and very skilful, as I have just said,” rejoined Lord Strange. “The Manchester men are lucky in securing him. That he will make a good defence of the town I do not doubt, but I shall take it nevertheless. The difficulty will be to hold it when taken. Manchester is the most important Parliamentary stronghold in the North of England, and every effort will be made by the rebels to recover it. And now, since I have said so much, I will detain you for a few minutes longer while I explain why I have sent for you from the Isle of Man. I did not mean to enter upon the matter till to-morrow, but it seems to me that I had better mention it now while my mind is full of the subject.”
“I am prepared to listen to all you may tell me, my lord,” observed Doctor Rutter.
“In a word, then,” said Lord Strange, “since it is certain the Civil War has begun in Lancashire, and no one can tell how long it may last, or how it may terminate, it is my intention to garrison Lathom House, so that if driven to extremities, I can hold it for six months or longer against an enemy. The house is as strong as a castle, as you know–indeed, few castles in England are so strong-and from its position, size, fortifications, and broad deep moat, I am confident it will stand a lengthened siege, if provided with sufficient men, ammunition, and ordnance. I shall therefore place three hundred experienced musketeers within the hall, plant cannon of large size on the walls and towers, and provision it for six months. Should I be absent, as may chance, its custody will be committed to my noble and high-spirited wife, in whose veins flows the blood of the Nassaus, and whose courage well fits her for the charge.”
“That I will answer for, my lord,” said the archdeacon. “A braver-hearted lady than Charlotte de la Trémoille, Lady Strange, does not exist. I am impatient to learn whether your lordship requires me to take any part in the preparations for the defence of Lathom House.”
“Thus much, my good friend,” replied Lord Strange. “You will aid her ladyship with your councils, and act for her as may be needful and as she may require. On no man’s judgment can I place greater reliance than on yours, my good Rutter; and while you are at Lathom, I feel certain all my plans will be fully carried out. Of necessity, I shall be often absent, for I shall have much to do. Her ladyship, as you are aware, is now at Lathom, and will remain there altogether for the present. To-morrow you will join her, and I wish you fully to explain my designs. If I do not receive the order I have been expecting from his majesty to attack Manchester, it is my intention to go to Chester to see my father the Earl of Derby, who has been very unwell for the last week.”
“His lordship, I trust, is not dangerously ill?” observed Doctor Rutter.
“I hope not,” said Lord Strange, gravely. “His physician, Doctor Gerard, from whom I hear daily, tells me I need not feel anxious about him, and that he is doing well, but in spite of these assurances, I am uneasy–very uneasy–for he is old and feeble, and might quickly sink.”
“It is satisfactory to reflect that the earl has long been prepared to quit this world,” observed Rutter, “and having relinquished all his great estates and power has nothing to tie him to earth.”
“No, he has long done with the world and its vanities,” said Lord Strange. “My beloved mother’s death was a severe blow to him, and he has never recovered from it. I marvel not at it, for a better wife and better mother than Elizabeth Vere, Countess of Derby, never existed. The earl, my father, has never been himself since he lost her. His interest in life was gone–his sole desire being to join her in heaven. No recluse could dwell in greater retirement than he has done, ever since this sad bereavement in his house on the banks of the Dee near Chester. But his sorrows seem now drawing to a close.”
“Where grief is incurable, the grave appears the only refuge,” said Rutter. “Under such circumstances prolongation of life is scarcely to be desired.”
“True,” said Lord Strange. “But we must await the fatal stroke without impatience, and my father, amid all his sufferings, has been perfectly resigned to the will of Heaven. His motive for surrendering his estates to me during his lifetime was that he might pass the remainder of his days in solitude and prayer. He then firmly believed that his life would not be long, and though he was mistaken, he has never regretted the step. Had he done so, I would have restored everything to him. But he had formed a resolution, like that of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, when he chose a retreat in the monastery of Saint Just, and entirely renounced the world, its business, pleasures, and troubles.”
“But he did not, like Charles the Fifth, practise all the rigours of a monastic life,” observed Doctor Rutter.
“He has performed no act of penance, for that is no part of his faith,” replied Lord Strange; “but he has spent much of his time in religious meditation and prayer. I would I were as well prepared for eternity as my father.”
“Your lordship has not much cause for self-reproach,” said Doctor Rutter.
“I strive to do right, but I often fall short in my endeavours,” replied Lord Strange. “It may be that some day I shall retire altogether from the world like my father.”
“That day, I hope, is far distant, my lord,” said Doctor Rutter.
Just then footsteps were heard in the adjoining gallery, and immediately afterwards a serving-man made his appearance.
“What wouldst thou, Cuthbert?” demanded Lord Strange.
“An it please your lordship,” replied the servant, “a messenger has just arrived from Chester–from the Earl of Derby.”
“A messenger from the earl, my father–at this hour!” exclaimed Lord Strange, uneasily. “What news brings he?”
“I cannot say, my lord,” replied the man. “He did not deliver his message to me. But I fear he does not bring good news.”
“You alarm me, Cuthbert,” cried Lord Strange. “Where is the messenger?”
“Without–in the gallery, my lord. “Tis Captain Standish.”
“Captain Standish! Bid him come in at once.”
The order was obeyed, and next moment a tall and remarkably handsome young man, about two or three and twenty, was ushered into the closet.
The new-comer wore a buff coat embroidered with lace, a short cloak, funnel- topped boots of supple leather ascending above the knee, and carried in his hand a broad-leaved Flemish beaver hat, adorned with a rich band and a plume of feathers.
The long dark locks falling upon his shoulders at once proclaimed him a Cavalier–the Puritans being already distinguished by their closely cropped hair. His manner and looks were highly prepossessing. Though he had ridden far and fast, he did not seem fatigued by the journey.
On the entrance of Captain Standish, Lord Strange rose to greet him, and looking inquiringly into his face, said:
“Keep me not in suspense, Frank. How is the earl, my father? Does he still live?”
“He does, my lord,” replied Captain Standish. “At all events, he was alive when I left him some three hours ago, and Doctor Gerard assured me that he is in no immediate danger, though he cannot last long.”
“Did you see him?” inquired Lord Strange, eagerly and anxiously. “How looked he? Was he sensible?”
“Perfectly sensible, my lord,” replied Standish. “His sole desire seemed to be to behold your lord-ship once more ere he died, and bid you a last farewell. I offered to set off forthwith and convey his dying wishes to your lordship, and he thanked me much, but added, “If my son has aught to do for the king that demands his presence, bid him not mind me. I know he will come if he can. Should aught hinder him, or should he not arrive in the time, I shall die content.’”
“Heaven grant I may not be too late!” cried Lord Strange. “I will start as soon as horses can be got ready. You have done me a great service, Frank, and I shall not forget it. While you refresh yourself after your ride, a bed shall be got ready for you.”
“I will drink a cup of wine in the hall, and snatch a mouthful of food,” replied Standish; “but if your lordship will furnish me with a fresh horse, for mine is somewhat jaded, I will go back with you to Chester.”
“You had best go to bed,” said Lord Strange. “You have done work enough for to- night.”
“I pray your lordship to let me have my way,” said the young man. “I shall not feel that I have fulfilled my promise to the earl, your father, unless I bring you back to him. Besides, I have done nothing. I could ride thirty more miles before day-break, and not be the worse for it. I only require a fresh horse.”
“And that you shall have,” said Lord Strange. “Since you are bent upon going with me, I will not hinder you. Hark, thee, Cuthbert,” he added to the man- servant, who remained in the closet waiting his noble master’s orders; “let refreshments be got ready instantly by some of thy fellows for Captain Standish, and while this is being done, go to the stables, and cause my best hunter to be saddled for me. Another strong horse will be required for Captain Standish. Two grooms will go with me, and half a dozen armed attendants. And mark me well!–the utmost expedition must be used.”
“In less than quarter of the hour the horses shall be at the hall-door, my lord,” replied Cuthbert, preparing to depart.
“Go with him, Frank,” said Lord Strange, “and make the best supper you can. I will join you in the dining-hall anon.”
And as Captain Standish quitted the closet, his lordship turned to the archdeacon, who had listened to the foregoing discourse in silence.
“Only a few minutes ago we were talking of my father,” he said. “I little thought that I should so soon receive this sad intelligence respecting him. Yet it does not surprise me, for I have long been expecting the summons. I must now prepare for my departure; but before doing so, I will write a brief letter to Lady Strange, which you will deliver to her on the morrow. The news will afflict her much, for she loved my father tenderly.”
“I will offer her all the consolation in my power,” said Doctor Rutter. And adding that he would await his lordship in the hall, he quitted the closet.
Left alone, Lord Strange fastened the door that he might not be interrupted, and then knelt down and prayed fervently for his dying father, imploring Heaven that he might be permitted to see him again while life remained.
CHAPTER II. Lord Strange
THIS supplication made, Lord Strange arose, and wrote a few lines full of tenderness and affection to his wife. Having sealed the letter, he proceeded to his dressing-room.
Hastily exchanging his loose gown for a black velvet doublet embroidered with silver and pantoufles for riding-boots, he slipped a rich baldrick over his right shoulder, while his sword, his black plumed hat, and gloves were brought him by a valet who was in attendance.
Thus attired, he presented a noble figure.
Lord Strange was then in the full perfection of manhood, being in his thirty- eighth year. Though not above the middle height, he possessed a strong and well- proportioned frame. His features were handsome, the nose prominent but well formed, and the eyes large and black. His complexion was dark, and the habitual expression of his countenance grave and somewhat melancholy.
A face full of intelligence and power. One peculiarity must be noticed, as shown in Vandyke’s fine portrait. The brow was almost hidden by the dark hair brought over it; but, perhaps, the arrangement suited the physiognomy. Certainly the long dark locks falling upon the shoulders became the wearer well.
Lord Strange had a proud and martial bearing. Trained as a soldier, he was well qualified for a command. What he lacked was experience, since he had not yet served in a regular campaign. Brave, yet not rash, he was somewhat fiery, but generous and chivalrous. As already intimated, he carried devotion to the king to its utmost extent. Though studious, Lord Strange was exceedingly active and fond of all manly sports–hunting and hawking were his delight. Ordinarily his manner was haughty and reserved, but towards his dependents and retainers he was very affable. So popular was he with the common folk, that they were wont to say of him in after days, as had been said of his fathers before him, “God bless the King and the Earl of Derby!”
James Stanley, Lord Strange, eldest son of William, sixth Earl of Derby, who was great-grandson of Mary, daughter of Henry the Seventh, claimed kindred with the Lancasters, Plantagenets, Tudors and Stuarts, and it was his royal descent, vast possessions, and great territorial influence that had excited the jealousy of Charles the First–a jealousy, kept alive and heightened by that monarch’s ill-chosen favourites and councillors, most of whom were hostile to Lord Strange.
When a very young man, being on his travels, Lord Strange visited the Hague, where Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, daughter of James the First, held her court, and he then first beheld his destined bride, the beautiful and accomplished Charlotte de la Trémoille, whose family was as illustrious as his own. Daughter of Claude Duke de Thouars, by Charlotte Brabantine de Nassau, daughter of William Prince of Orange, Charlotte de la Trémoille was likewise grand-daughter of Charlotte de Bourbon, of the royal house of Montpensier, and was therefore in every respect a suitable match for the heir of the great house of Stanley. The nuptial ceremony, conducted with great magnificence, took place in a palace of the Prince of Orange at the Hague, in the presence of the King and Queen of Bohemia and other royal and noble personages.
Shortly afterwards, the young lord brought his lovely bride to London, and she appeared as one of the chief ornaments of the court of Queen Henrietta Maria.
At this time, Lord Strange lived with great splendour–his father, the Earl of Derby, disconsolate at the loss of his wife, having surrendered his estates to him–gave sumptuous entertainments, and became a patron of artists, men of science and letters. Vandyke, whom he had known in Holland, received most flattering attention from him. But the king looked coldly upon the powerful noble, and unable to brook this treatment, Lord Strange retired to his seats in Lancashire.
Lady Strange, who was devotedly attached to her lord, and whose good sense equalled her personal attractions, expressed no regret at quitting the court, though she stood very high in the queen’s favour, and was greatly admired for her beauty and wit. Indeed, she found herself a person of far more importance at Lathom House and Knowsley, than she had been at Whitehall, and at Castle Rushen, in the Isle of Man, of which her husband was supreme lord, she was a queen.
Both at Lathom House and Knowsley, Lord Strange kept up princely establishments, and revived the magnificent doings of his ancestor, Edward, the third Earl of Derby, of whom it was said by Camden, “that with his death, the glory of hospitality seemed to fall asleep.” This almost regal mode of life, which was represented as a sort of rivalry, greatly offended the king.
Completely neglected by the Court, but still practising the extraordinary hospitality just described, Lord Strange continued to reside in Lancashire, or at his castle in the Isle of Man, for several years, during which his power and influence underwent no diminution, but rather increased.
Unquestionably, he was the most powerful nobleman in the North of England at the outbreak of the Civil War. Banishing all thought of the treatment he had experienced, he listened only to the dictates of loyalty and devotion, by which his breast had been ever animated, and at once offered his services to the king. How his motives were misconstrued, and his efforts paralysed, has been shown.
As Lord Strange marched along the great gallery, preceded by a servant bearing a light, his eye fell upon the portraits of his ancestors lining the walls.
There was Thomas Lord Stanley, first Earl of Derby, who married the widow of the Earl of Richmond, and mother of Henry the Seventh; Thomas, grandson of the first earl, and perhaps the most distinguished of the illustrious line; Edward, third earl, lord high steward at the coronation of Mary, and chamberlain of Chester in Elizabeth’s time, who married a daughter of the Duke of Norfolk; Henry, fourth earl, who espoused the granddaughter of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and Mary, widow of Louis the Twelfth of France, and Sister to Henry the Eighth; Ferdinando, fifth earl, said to be poisoned by the Jesuits; and, lastly, William, sixth earl, who succeeded his brother Ferdinando, and had married Elizabeth de Vere, daughter of the Earl of Oxford.
Lord Strange paused for a moment before the portrait of his sire, a stately- looking personage in the costume of Elizabeth’s time, and wearing the order of the Garter. Well-nigh half a century had elapsed since that portrait was painted, and the earl was young and handsome then.
How looked he now? Lord Strange could not help asking himself the question. Beside Earl William was his countess, whose marvellous beauty explained his incurable grief at her loss.
It might be fancy–nay, it must have been!–but as Lord Strange contemplated these portraits, they seemed to gaze mournfully at him, and to follow him with their looks as he went on.
Descending the great oak staircase, he reached the hall, where he found Archdeacon Rutter, and gave him the letter for Lady Strange, charging him with some further affectionate messages to her.
By this time Captain Standish had finished his hasty repast, and was quite ready to attend upon his lordship.
In another part of the hall, and not far from the entrance, stood the porter, with some half-dozen serving-men in rich liveries, and they now threw open the great door.
But Lord Strange could not depart without a word to old Randal Fermor, the steward, who had risen from his couch to receive his lordship’s parting commands.
The old man now approached. Having filled the same office in the time of Earl Ferdinando, he had been continued in it ever since. He was greatly attached to Earl William, and the tidings just received of his lordship’s critical condition had greatly grieved him.
As he drew near, he said to Lord Strange:
“Had I been able to ride so far, I would have prayed your lordship to allow me to accompany you to Chester. I should like to have seen my old master once more ere he goes hence.”
“Willingly would I have granted thy request, Randal, hadst thou been equal to the journey,” said Lord Strange. “But I will mention thy wish to my father, should he be living when I arrive. He had ever a great regard for thee.”
“I know it–I feel it!” cried the old steward, scarcely able to repress his emotion. “There was no one whom I loved and honoured so much as my old master–your lordship excepted. May he meet his reward in heaven, and his portion be with the blessed! He was the kindest and best of men, as well as the most noble-hearted.”
“Thou say’st truly, Randal,” observed Lord Strange, much moved. “Nor can we rightly estimate his loss. But we are speaking of him as if he was gone–whereas, it may please the Almighty to spare him yet awhile.”
“He is too good for this wicked world, my lord,” cried old Randal, fairly bursting into tears, “and is better out of it!”
“At any rate, he is well prepared for his departure,” said Lord Strange. “And now fare thee well! I commit all to thy charge during my absence, and I do so with perfect confidence, for thou hast ever been a faithful steward to me and mine. He who is going will bear witness for thee above!”
The old steward pressed his lips to the hand extended to him.
The servants formed themselves into two lines as Lord Strange went forth followed by Captain Standish. A powerful steed, held by a groom, was standing close by the steps, and his lordship had no sooner mounted than another horse was brought for Standish.
A bright moonlight night. Where the beams fell every object could be clearly discerned. A large portion of the courtyard, however, buried in shade. Still, the picturesque outline of the mansion, with its gables and large bay windows, was fully revealed.
The armed escort was in attendance, and at the head of this little troop Lord Strange rode out of the court-yard, and proceeded towards the park, through which he meant to shape his course.
On this side the palatial mansion was seen to the greatest advantage, and it could not have looked better than it did on that lovely night. So exquisite was the scene, that it extorted Frank Standish’s admiration.
Knowsley Hall was then a large irregular pile, additions to the original structure having been made at various times, but its very irregularity gave it a charm. Open at the front, it had two large wings, and at the rear beyond the inner court were extensive out-buildings. On the left of the main building was a chapel, that might almost be described as a church, since it was very lofty, and had large windows filled with the richest stained glass.
On this side were the gardens laid out in the old-fashioned style, with terraces–each terrace being bordered by a row of clipped yew- trees–very formal, but very beautiful. At the foot of these slopes was a large sheet of water–almost a lake–that materially added to the beauty of the place.
Beyond was the park–then full of magnificent old timber, the growth of centuries, and abounding in deer.
The turrets and walls of the ancient mansion were now bathed in moonlight, and the surface of the miniature lake glittered in the silvery beams.
Lord Strange had just entered the park, and was about to quicken his pace, when a groom, who had ridden on in advance, came back to say that a party of horsemen was approaching; and in another minute the little troop came in sight.
It consisted of a small detachment of dragoons, with an officer at their head, whose splendid accoutrements showed he belonged to the royal guard. As he drew nearer, Lord Strange recognised him as Captain Galliard, with whom he was well acquainted, and halted to greet him. “Your lordship is fortunately encountered,” said Captain Galliard. “I was coming to Knowsley. I have a despatch for you from his majesty.”
And with these words he presented a letter to Lord Strange.
“Can you tell me the purport of his missive, colonel?” demanded his lordship.
“I can, my lord,” replied Galliard; “and I might have delivered the message verbally, but his majesty deemed it more fitting to write. Your lordship is commanded to attend the king without delay at Nottingham Castle.”
“I would instantly obey the command, colonel,” said Lord Strange; “but I have just received another summons, that cannot be neglected.”
“How, my lord!” exclaimed Galliard. “The king’s commands are paramount to all other–or should be so.”
“I am ready at all times to sacrifice life and fortune for the king, but there are appeals to which even his majesty’s commands must give way. Such is mine, as you yourself, I am sure, will admit, when I tell you I have just been summoned to my father’s death-bed.”
“I have just arrived from Chester, colonel,” interposed Standish. “The Earl of Derby will scarce depart in peace unless he beholds his son.”
“No more need be said,” remarked Captain Galliard, feelingly. “I will report what I have heard to the king. His majesty, I am certain, will deeply sympathise with your lordship.”
“I will join him at Nottingham as soon as I can,” said Lord Strange. “Having rendered this explanation I must now press on to Chester, or I may arrive too late. Proceed to Knowsley, I pray you, colonel, and take a few hours’ rest after your long journey. My steward will see to all your wants.”
“I will take advantage of your lordship’s offer,” said Captain Galliard. “In good truth, we all–men and horses–need rest and refreshment.”
“Farewell, then,” said Lord Strange. “I hope we may meet again under happier circumstances.”
With this, he galloped off, followed by Captain Standish and his attendants, while Captain Galliard and his men proceeded to Knowsley Hall, where they were very hospitably received by old Randal Fermor.
CHAPTER III. The Dying Earl
PASSING through Prescot, and crossing the old bridge over the Mersey at Warrington, built by the first Earl of Derby, Lord Strange and his attendants rode on at a rapid pace through Daresbury to Frodsham, where they roused the host of the Bear’s Paw, and halted for a few minutes to refresh their steeds.
This done, they galloped off again, and skirting the wide marshes between them and the Mersey, kept as near as they could to a range of lofty hills; then tracking the boundaries of Delamere Forest, they speeded on through Plemston and Mickle Trafford.
Day was just breaking as they approached Chester, and the castle and cathedral, with some of the loftier buildings, could be seen overtopping the walls of the ancient and picturesque city.
Shut and guarded during the night, the gates were not opened at that early hour, but it was not Lord Strange’s intention to enter the city.
Turning off on the right, he crossed the Roodee, where for upwards of a century races had been run, and jousts and other chivalrous sports held, and rode on till he came to a large mansion, situated on the banks of the river Dee.
“Is the earl, my father, still alive, Hyde?” cried Lord Strange to the porter, who came forth to meet him, as he rode up to the gateway.
“He is, my lord,” replied Hyde; “but I fear he is rapidly sinking.”
“Heaven be thanked I am in time,” exclaimed his lordship.
And, springing from his horse, he entered the house.
Few of the household had retired to rest on that night, and Lord Strange found Warburton, the butler, and three or four other servants, collected in the hall, expecting his arrival.
Warburton gave the same report of the earl’s condition that Hyde, the porter, had done, stating that he had just been in his lordship’s room with some chicken broth, but he would not touch it.
“Doctor Gerard, the physician, and Mr. Hargrave, the chaplain, are now with him, my lord,” said the butler; “and I could tell what they thought by their looks.”
“Take me at once to the chamber, Warburton,” said Lord Strange.
In a large carved oak bedstead, with heavy hangings, propped up by pillows, lay the dying earl.
His countenance still retained its noble outline, but the features were thin and sharpened and of a deathly hue.
His hands were clasped upon his breast, his eyes turned upwards, and he was evidently repeating a prayer, which Mr. Hargrave, the chaplain, an elderly man, seated near the bedside, was reading to him.
The tapers that had been burning throughout the night had only just been extinguished, and the window curtains drawn back, so as to admit the light of day, but the early sunbeams that fell upon the arras and oak panels gave no cheerfulness to the room. On the contrary, they made the picture even more painful by force of contrast.
In a large easy-chair sat Doctor Gerard, apparently dozing, but ever and anon he opened his eyes to look towards the bed.
The entrance of Lord Strange was so quiet that it did not attract the earl’s notice, and he remained for some moments gazing at his father.
During this interval, Doctor Gerard, receiving a sign to that effect, did not quit his seat, and Mr. Hargrave went on with the prayer.
At length Lord Strange advanced towards the bed, and taking the earl’s hand said:
“Father, I am here.”
Something like a smile lighted up the dying nobleman’s pallid countenance.
“I knew you would come, my son,” he murmured.
“Shall we leave the room, my lord?” inquired the chaplain, addressing Lord Strange. “The earl has something to say to you in private.”
“I pray you do so, good Master Hargrave,” said, Lord Strange. “But remain without with Doctor Gerard,” he added in a lower tone.
The chaplain bowed and went out with the physician.
“We are alone, father,” said Lord Strange.
“Come as near to me as you can, or you will not hear my words,” said the earl, placing his arm over his son’s neck, and regarding him with a loving and pitying look. “I am much troubled in mind concerning you. It seems to me that I can look into the future, and I have a sad foreboding that all your possessions will be taken from you, and that a tragical death awaits you.”
“Let not that trouble you, father,” said Lord Strange. “If such is my destiny, it cannot be avoided. I trust I shall be able to meet death firmly in whatever shape it may come. Be sure I shall never die dishonoured.”
“But why pursue a course that appears certain to lead to this end, my son? Why sacrifice yourself for a king who rewards you with ingratitude? Retire to the Isle of Man, where you can dwell securely till this struggle is over. By taking a prominent part in it, you will gain nothing, and may lose all.”
“I cannot follow your counsel, father,” replied Lord Strange. “Be the consequences what they may, I will not desert the king. I should tarnish my name were I to withdraw from him now.”
“Not so, my son,” rejoined the earl. “The course I point out is the only one left you. The king trusts you not, but listens to your enemies, and will never believe in your professions of loyalty. “Tis in vain, therefore, that you attempt to serve him. You have nothing but mortification and disappointment to expect. Why throw away life for one who treats you thus? Fight not against him, but fight not for him.”
“I can make no promise, my lord. His majesty has just sent for me, and what he commands I shall do.”
“Make any excuses rather than go to him,” said the earl. “You will not disobey my dying injunctions!”
“I ought to be with his majesty now, my lord–but I am here,” replied Lord Strange, somewhat evasively.
“Remain here, I charge you, my son–at least for some days after my death,” said the earl, solemnly and authoritatively.
“Ask me not more than I am able to perform, father,” rejoined Lord Strange, evidently a prey to conflicting emotions. “Enjoin aught I can do, and your wishes shall be fulfilled.”
“My wishes have been expressed,” said the earl, somewhat reproachfully; “and since you refuse to comply with them, there is no need of further speech. Oh! that you could see into the future as plainly as I can!”
“If I have offended you, father, I humbly crave your pardon,” said Lord Strange.
“Nay, I have nothing to pardon, my dear son,” said the dying nobleman. “My sole desire is to preserve you from danger. Take my blessing. Say farewell for me to your wife and children. Fain would I have seen them once more–but it may not be! We shall all meet in heaven.”
While he uttered these words, a change came over the earl’s countenance that could not be mistaken. He sank back upon the pillow and immediately expired.
Half an hour had elapsed, when the door was opened, and those outside were invited to enter the chamber of death. With the chaplain and physician were Frank Standish and Warburton, the butler. None were surprised to find that all was over.
“Let me be first to salute your lordship as Earl of Derby,” said Standish, bowing deeply as he came in.
“I do not desire the title in this presence,” rejoined the new earl. “Approach the bed, I pray you, good Master Hargrave, and you will see how calm my father looks. He might be in a placid slumber.”
“He has died the death of the righteous,” said the chaplain. “His life has been a long preparation for the final hour, and it has found him prepared.”
Bending down he took the hand of the departed, and pressed his lips to it. His example was followed by the others, but no one seemed so profoundly affected as Warburton.
The new earl witnessed this touching scene in silence, and then giving some needful orders to the butler, and directing that the household should be admitted to view the body of their deceased lord, he withdrew to an adjoining chamber, where he penned a despatch to the king, acquainting him with the sad event, and adding that he hoped to join his majesty at Nottingham on the morrow.
He then wrote a few lines to his wife, and having sent off messengers with the letters, threw himself upon a couch, quite worn out with anxiety and fatigue.
After a few hours’ slumber, the new Earl of Derby arose, and had an immediate conference with Mr. Hargrave.
“I am compelled to attend the king at Nottingham,” he said, “and must therefore commit the management of my father’s funeral to you. The body will lie in state for four days, and should I not return in that interval, you will cause it to be conveyed, without pomp or ceremony, according to the wishes of the departed, to the church of Ormskirk, there to be deposited in our family vault beneath the Derby chapel by the side of my angelic mother.”
“Your lordship may rely on me,” replied the chaplain. “On the fifth day, the interment shall take place at Ormskirk, as you have directed.”
CHAPTER IV. Prince Rupert
BEFORE setting out for Nottingham, the Earl of Derby again visited the chamber of the dead, and looked his last upon his father’s face.
With a mournful heart he then mounted his steed, and rode off, accompanied by Captain Standish and the armed attendants he had brought with him.
For more than an hour he spoke not a word, and seemed occupied in painful reflections. He then made an effort to rouse himself, but speedily relapsed into silence, and continued in the same melancholy mood till they reached Mansfield, where they halted for the night.
Next morning, the earl resumed his journey, and the sight of Nottingham Castle, seated on a precipitous rock, overlooking the portion of Sherwood Forest across which he was riding, filled him with emotions very different from those he had experienced on the previous day, and in some degree dispelled his gloom.
Above the fortress could be seen the royal standard. Proudly it floated now, but an ill omen had attended its first display. Reared on the castle during a storm, it was speedily blown down; nor could it be set up again till the fury of the storm had abated, when it was placed on the keep.
The Earl of Derby did not forget this inauspicious circumstance, and it surprised him to find that the castle was not more strongly fortified, since he was aware the Parliament had a body of five hundred infantry and fifteen hundred horse at Coventry. There were no cannon on the walls, and very few musketeers.
While he mounted the steep ascent leading to the gateway, trumpets were sounded and drums beaten, and a troop of horse came forth, their helmets and cuirasses glittering in the sun. They were a remarkably fine body of men, and very well mounted.
Their leader was a very striking personage, and instantly attracted Lord Derby’s attention, who knew him at a glance.
The Cavalier in question was very tall, and possessed a spare but well-knit and vigorous frame. His dark stern visage was lighted up by eyes that seemed capable of the fiercest expression. He had a thoroughly military bearing, and no one could look at him without seeing that, young as he was, he had served in many a campaign.
He wore a richly-embroidered buff coat, encircled by a crimson scarf, and crossed by a magnificent baldrick, from which a long sword depended. Riding- boots ascending above the knee, and a broad-leaved Spanish hat, ornamented with a plume of white feathers, completed his costume. His fiery steed seemed proud of his rider.
In this haughty Cavalier Lord Derby instantly recognised Prince Rupert, the king’s nephew, and the brother of the Elector-Palatine. Prince Rupert had been appointed general-in-chief of the royal cavalry quartered at Leicester.
As the prince’s quick eye alighted on the earl, he checked his impatient steed in order to speak to him. Hitherto they had seen little of each other, though Rupert was a relative of the countess; but Lord Derby had a genuine admiration of the prince, whose daring and military skill he fully appreciated; while Rupert, though sharing the king’s belief that Lord Derby nourished ambitious designs, did full justice to his noble qualities.
Courteous salutations passed between them; but Prince Rupert’s manner was necessarily grave, as he thus addressed the earl:
“I have to offer your lordship my sincere condolence on the death of the noble earl your father. Intelligence of the sad event was received by his majesty this morning, and he immediately communicated it to me. I own that I scarcely thought your lordship would come hither at a season of such heavy affliction; but I did not estimate aright your devotion to the king. In truth, he has great need of your services. “Tis not too much to say that you alone can put down the rebels in Lancashire, and I doubt not you will quickly do it.”
“Two months ago I could have crushed the rebellion in that county without difficulty, your highness,” replied the earl; “but now things are changed. Manchester and Bolton are both strongly fortified and well garrisoned.”
“I know it, my lord,” replied Prince Rupert. “But neither town can hold out long against you, if you are resolved to take it.”
“Manchester will make an obstinate resistance,” remarked the earl.
“If it should be so, put the whole garrison to the sword,” said the prince, sternly. “Spare none. Too much leniency has been shown the rebels. But you will receive your orders from the king. You will find Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley with him. I am going to Leicester. Farewell, my lord. Remember me, I pray you, to my cousin, the countess. I hope soon to hear you are master of Manchester.”
As Prince Rupert rode down the hill, Lord Derby and his followers, passed through the gateway of the castle.
CHAPTER V. Charles the First
THE Earl of Derby expected to find the court thronged with musketeers and pike- men, but very few soldiers were to be seen. Half a dozen yeomen of the guard, bearing partisans, were stationed at the entrance to that part of the castle occupied by the king and his suite.
Having dismounted, the earl proceeded thither followed by Frank Standish, and was ceremoniously conducted by a groom of the chambers and some other officers of the household to the royal apartments.
Frank Standish remained in the guard-chamber, where several other persons were waiting, but the earl was at once taken to the king’s cabinet.
At a table covered with papers and despatches sat Charles. Why attempt to depict the features of the unfortunate monarch, since all are familiar with them, and can summon up his image at will? Suffice it to say, that although the king looked grave and melancholy, his countenance did not want the placidity that habitually characterised it.
His habiliments were of black velvet, and a falling band, deeply edged with lace, served to set off his noble head.
With the king were the two persons referred to by Prince Rupert–both of whom were friends of Lord Derby.
Viscount Molineux of Maryborough was a fine-looking young man, and had quite the air of a Cavalier. Sir Thomas Tyldesley of Mierscough Lodge, near Lancaster, and the representative of an old Lancashire family, was likewise a handsome man, but somewhat older and more robust than his companion. Both were accoutred in steel breastplates and tassets, and each had a long sword suspended from a baldrick.
As the Earl of Derby went to kiss the king’s hand, his majesty said earnestly:
“My lord, I thank you for coming to me now. I take it as a proof of your devotion.”
“Your majesty is well aware that I am ever ready to obey your behests,” replied the earl. “In staying to receive my father’s last sigh, I felt sure I should not incur your majesty’s displeasure.”
“I should have been sorry if you had done otherwise, my lord,” said Charles; “and if you had tarried to lay your father in the tomb, I should not have blamed you, however much I might regret your absence. I have urgent need of your services. The rebellion is making rapid progress in Lancashire, and must be checked. No one can accomplish this so effectually as yourself, since no one has such power and influence as you have in the county. I have been consulting with Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley, and they entirely agree with me that to your lordship alone ought the task to be entrusted.”
“Such is our opinion, sire,” observed Lord Molineux. “No one can raise so large a force in Lancashire as the Earl of Derby.”
“That is quite certain,” added Sir Thomas Tyldesley. “Your majesty will recollect that his lordship once raised sixty thousand men, and what has been done before may be done again.”
“Not now, Sir Thomas,” said the earl. “I doubt if a third of the number may be got together. Had your majesty deigned to follow my advice, and raised your standard at Warrington instead of here, at Nottingham, you would now have a large army. Instead of this, I fear that very few have responded to your proclamation.”
“Few, indeed,” said the king. “I have only three hundred infantry and some militia brought me by the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire.”
“Not more, sire?” exclaimed the earl, startled.
“At Leicester I have eight hundred horse,” pursued the king. “Prince Rupert has just been here, and urges me strongly to quit this castle, representing to me that I am in great danger from the Parliamentarian forces at Coventry. But I cannot retire from Nottingham.”
“I observe there is no cannon on the wall,” said Lord Derby. “Should an attack be made on the castle how can you resist it? I beseech your majesty to retire in time, or you may fall into the hands of the enemy. Lathom House is fortified, and would stand a siege. Take possession of it, sire. I will undertake to raise you two thousand foot and a thousand horse. With these you can hold out against the rebels till you can get together an army, and give them battle.”
“I have planted my standard at Nottingham,” replied the king; “and at Nottingham I will remain. I will not trust myself in Lancashire–unless at the head of an army, and it seems you cannot muster six thousand men.”
“The large force I had mustered has dwindled away,” said Lord Derby.
“Most of them have joined the rebels,” observed Lord Molineux.
The Earl of Derby looked grave.
“I have come here in obedience to your summons, sire,” he said. “How can I serve you?”
“I may ask more than your lordship can perform,” said the king. “My desire is, that you should crush the rebellion in Lancashire, and begin with Manchester. Can you do this?”
“I have every confidence that I can carry out your wishes, sire,” replied the earl. “But I doubt not the garrison at Manchester will be strongly reinforced by the Parliament. I may not, therefore, be able to accomplish the task as quickly as you expect. I believe the town is fully prepared for a siege.”
“Lord Molineux and Sir Thomas Tyldesley have just told me so, but I can scarcely credit it,” remarked the king.
“A German engineer, named Rosworm, has thoroughly fortified the town, sire,” said Sir Thomas Tyldesley.
