Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715

The butler then returned to the dining-room, while Mr. Thirlwall hurried to the servants’ hall, where he retailed all he had just heard, with some additions of his own.

In less than half-an-hour it was known among the whole household that his majesty, King James the Third, had arrived, in disguise, at the castle.

III. – NICHOLAS RIBBLETON

If any confirmation were wanted of the suspicions now generally entertained by Mr. Newbiggin and the rest of the servants that a rising was imminent, it was afforded by the earl, who took his guest, as soon as luncheon was over, to see the arms stored in the old tower.

The inspection occupied some time, for three or four chambers had to be visited, each full of muskets, calivers, pistols, cartouche-boxes, powder-horns, shot-bags, belts, swords of various sizes and make, hatchets, pikes, halberts, black leather caps, drums, kettle-drums, trumpets, fifes, and other martial instruments. In a vault beneath the basement floor were bestowed several barrels of gunpowder.

When the examination was finished, the prince expressed himself delighted with the preparations made.

“You told me you could arm and equip two or three hundred men, cousin,” he said. “And I now perceive you did not exaggerate. But where are the men?”

“I have but to ride to Alston Moor, my liege, to find them, and bring them back with me,” said Charles Rad-clyffe.

“Men and arms are ready,” said the earl. “Shall we raise the standard?” he added, lifting up the flag.

At this moment, as if in response to the appeal, shouts were heard outside, and several voices exclaimed:

“Long live King James the Third!”

“Is this premeditated, cousin?” said the prince.

“No, by my faith,” replied the earl. “But it seems your majesty’s presence has been discovered – how I know not. Shall I send away the troublesome varlets?”

“‘Twere needless, since the discovery has been made,” said the prince, who did not seem much displeased.

“Your majesty need feel no uneasiness,” observed Father Norham, who formed one of the party. “There are no traitors at Dilston. All here are loyal, and would die rather than betray you.”

“On that assurance I shall not hesitate to show myself to them,” said the prince. “Attend me, I pray you, cousin.”

The massive door being thrown open, a singular spectacle was seen.

In front of the tower was collected a large number of the household, with several out-door servants – grooms, gamekeepers, huntsmen, gardeners, and their assistants – most of them young and active-looking, though the coachman was old and stout, and there were three or four others, who must have lived in the family for half a century. But these were just as enthusiastic as their comrades.

When the prince appeared another loud shout arose, and would have been renewed had not the earl commanded silence.

“I thank you heartily, my good friends, for this manifestation of your zeal,” said the prince. “Do not imagine, because I have come hither in disguise, that I am afraid to trust myself with you, or, in the slightest degree, doubt your fidelity. The Earl of Derwentwater, your master, is my best friend, and dear to me as a brother. No one can live with him without sharing his sentiments. I could not, therefore, have any distrust. But I feared that in the excess of your zeal you might not keep guard upon your tongues, and I am very desirous that my landing in England, and arrival at Dilston, should not be known for the present. Secrecy, as you will easily understand, is essential to the success of my projects.”

A murmur of delight arose from the assemblage, but further shouting was checked by Newbiggin, who, stepping forward, made a profound obeisance to the prince, and said:

“Your majesty need fear no indiscretion on our part. I will answer for my fellow-servants. We know the importance of our trust.”

“Ay, that we do,” cried several voices.

“I am perfectly satisfied,” said the prince; “and I shall feel easier now that this explanation has taken place. Again accept my thanks for your manifestation of sympathy and attachment to me. I cannot speak to you all, but there is one among you to whom I would fain say a word.”

And he designated a tall, fine old man, standing at the back of the assemblage.

“That is Nicholas Ribbleton, my liege,” said Newbiggin. “He lived with his lordship’s grandfather.”

“And was much liked by him, and by my father,” added the earl. “Nicholas Ribbleton will always have a home at Dilston.”

“Bring him to me,” said the prince.

Summoned by the butler, old Ribbleton would have thrown himself at the prince’s feet, but the latter prevented him, and gave him his hand, which the old man pressed devotedly to his heart.

“I never expected such an honour as this,” he said. “Your majesty is too gracious to me. I have always been devoted to your royal house, and shall continue so to the last. It may sound boastful when I say that both King Charles the Second, and your august father, King James, deigned to notice me. Long have I desired to behold your majesty, and now the wish is gratified.” Here emotion choked his utterance for a moment but he added, “If I live to see your majesty on the throne I shall die content Long have we looked for your coming, but now you are come, don’t turn back till you have won the victory. You have right on your side. The crown belongs to your majesty and not to Queen Anne. If she won’t surrender it, take it! Such is the advice that an old man, who has spoken to the king, your father, and your royal uncle, dares to give you. Pardon my freedom, sire!”

“I not only pardon it, but am obliged to you for speaking so freely,” replied the prince, in a gracious and encouraging tone. “What will you say if Queen Anne should surrender the crown to me?”

“I shall say that a miracle has been worked,” said Ribbleton. “But judging by her conduct, it seems very unlikely that she will act justly. Were I your majesty, I wouldn’t trust her promises, however fair they may be.”

“Thou art too bold, Ribbleton,” interposed Lord Derwentwater.

“Nay, I am not offended,” said the prince. “There is wisdom in the old man’s words. I will have some further talk with you anon, my good friend,” he added to Ribbleton, who made an obeisance, and retired highly pleased.

At the same time Newbiggin gave a sign to the rest of the household, and the place was quickly cleared.

IV. – THE LITTLE CHAPEL

Lord Derwentwater then took his royal guest to the stables, and showed him his fine stud of horses, with which the prince was greatly pleased. After looking over the collection, his highness made choice of a strong hackney for his proposed journey. The earl offered him his own dapple-grey steed, but the prince would not deprive him of his favourite.

No precise orders were given, but two of the grooms were told that they might have to set out for London on the morrow, and must therefore make all needful arrangements. The men asked no questions, but promised that his lordship’s injunctions should be attended to.

Father Norham had not accompanied the party to the stables, but proceeded to the little chapel before alluded to, where he was joined by the prince, and received his highness’s confession.

Mass was afterwards performed, at which most of the household assisted – several of the female servants being present.

It was a pleasing sight to see the little place of worship on that interesting occasion. Doubtless, many of the persons there assembled thought more of the prince than of their devotions, but their behaviour was extremely decorous.

The chapel was not larger than an ordinary room, and very simply furnished. In a small oaken pew at the upper end, on the right of the altar, sat the Chevalier de Saint George – almost concealed from view. In a similar pew on the left were the Earl of Derwentwater and his brother. On wooden benches behind were collected the servants – the women sitting by themselves on the left. Many a curious eye was fixed on the prince whenever he arose. The solemn service was admirably performed by Father Norham.

Strange thoughts possessed Lord Derwentwater. In the family vault beneath the chapel lay his sire and grand-sire, both of whom had been devoted to the Stuarts. Might not their shades be hovering around? Exceedingly superstitious, the earl thought so, and so did Charles Radclyffe.

The congregation had dispersed – long to remember the event.

Before quitting the chapel, the prince said to the earl:

“Are not some of your family buried here, my lord?”

“My father and my grandfather,” replied the other. “And if aught could rouse them from their slumbers it would be your majesty’s presence.”

The prince remained silent for a moment, looking very grave, and then said:

“You will scarce credit me when I tell you that I saw – or fancied I saw – two figures standing between me and the altar. Their mournful looks seemed to convey a warning. I saw them only for a moment. They pointed to you and your brother, and then disappeared. What think you of this? Were they phantoms?”

“I know not what to think,” replied the earl. “No such appearances have ever been beheld before, but then no prince of your royal house has ever before knelt within this chapel. We will consult Father Norham anon. Meantime, let me take your majesty to the garden. You must banish these gloomy thoughts.”

A stroll through the charming gardens quickly produced the desired effect. As yet the prince had seen nothing of the beauties of the place, and was unacquainted with the commanding position of the castle. The view from the terrace enchanted him, and he remained for some time contemplating the lovely scene in silence, and then broke out into raptures. By his own request he was next taken to the deer-park, and halted on the bridge to look at the castle. It has already been mentioned that this was the best point from which the stately structure could be surveyed, and the prince was of that opinion.

“How well the castle looks as it towers above us,” he cried, “and what a striking picture it makes, combined with this deep glen, the rushing stream, and yonder woods, with the Tyne in the distance! You could not have a nobler residence, cousin.”

“Undoubtedly, my liege, I ought to be content with it,” rejoined the earl; “and so I am. Yet I must own I should prefer the old stronghold that once stood there, and of which you have just seen a relic; and had it not been demolished by my grandfather, Earl Francis, I would have preserved it. Imagine how well the stern old pile must have looked, perched on that height, and how completely it must have harmonised with this ravine, and with the woods. Its position and strength considered, it is not surprising that the Scottish marauders, though they often came in force, could never take it. The fortress might have stood a siege in our own time.”

“Very true,” replied the prince, smiling. “And on that account its destruction may be regretted. Otherwise, the modern building is most to my taste. I could desire nothing better.”

“I trust, ere long, Windsor Castle may be yours, my liege,” said Lord Derwentwater; “and then you will think little of Dilston.”

“Dilston cannot vie with Windsor, that is certain, cousin. Nevertheless, it is a splendid place, and you are fortunate in possessing it. The mansion only wants one thing to make it perfect. You can guess what I mean. But I will tell you plainly. A lady ought to grace it.”

“I shall wait till your majesty is restored before I take a wife,” said the earl.

“Why wait?” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “Has no fair Northumbrian damsel caught your eye? I am told Tom Forster’s sister, Dorothy, is marvellously beautiful. She may not be rich, but you do not want a dower.”

“Dorothy Forster is a very charming girl, I admit, and has many agreeable qualities, but I never thought seriously of her.”

“Strange you should have alluded to her in one of your letters to me.”

“Your majesty reminds me that I compared her very advantageously with her brother, who is a mere country squire, and not remarkable for wit, whereas Dorothy is extremely lively and clever, besides being very pretty. But I didn’t mean to intimate that I had fallen in love with her.”

“You gave me that impression, I confess, cousin,” said the Chevalier de Saint George. “I fully expected your next letter would tell me you were engaged to her. Is she very young?”

“About eighteen, I fancy.”

“Just the age. And she rides well, I think you said?”

“Admirably. Tom Forster keeps the best pack of hounds in the country, and she goes out with them.”

“I only see one objection. Her brother does not belong to our religion.”

“But she does,” rejoined the earl.

“Then you cannot do better than make choice of her.”

“Even if I were to take your majesty’s advice, it does not follow I should be accepted.”

“Bah! the Earl of Derwentwater is not likely to be refused.”

“Dorothy Forster will wed no one she does not love. Nor would I wed her unless certain I had won her heart.”

“Have you any doubt upon the point, cousin?”

“Your majesty is pleased to rally me.”

“I want an answer to the question.”

Just then an interruption to their discourse was offered by Charles Radclyife, who came hurriedly down to the bridge to announce that some visitors had arrived at the castle.

“Newbiggin couldn’t send them away, and was driven to his wit’s end, for they would come in,” said Charles.

“Who are they?” asked the earl.

“Mr. Forster of Bamborough, and his sister,” replied Charles.

“Indeed!” exclaimed the prince. “This is a lucky chance.”

“It would have mattered little if they had been alone, my liege,” said Charles. “Unluckily, Sir John Webb of Canford, Lady Webb, and their daughter are with them, and the whole party evidently intend to stay here till tomorrow. Sir John and Lady Webb have brought a great coach with them and a pack of servants, but the two girls and Tom Forster came on horseback. Forster wouldn’t hear a word from Newbiggen, but told him he was sure his lordship would be glad to see them.”

“And so I should, under other circumstances,” said the earl.

“Heed me not,” cried the prince. “I am pleased at this opportunity of meeting Mr. Forster and Sir John Webb, both of whom I know are my warm partisans.”

“Since your majesty does not object, I feel quite easy,” said the earl. “Where are the visitors?” he added, to his brother.

“I left them on the lawn,” replied Charles. “I told them you had a friend with you – nothing more. Shall I prepare them, my liege!”

“No,” replied the prince. “I will chose my own time for the disclosure.”

“Haste back, then, and say I will be with them anon,” cried the earl.

“And be careful to give them no hint.”

“Your majesty may rely on me,” replied Charles, as he bowed and departed.

“This is our North Country custom,” said the earl. “We visit each other without the slightest ceremony – take friends with us – and stay as long as we please. In coming to me thus, uninvited, and bringing Sir John Webb and his family with him, Tom Forster is only doing what I should not hesitate to do, were I inclined to pay him a visit at Bamborough Castle.”

“I am very glad he has come, for it will give me an opportunity of beholding the fair Dorothy,” said the prince.

“Your majesty will also behold Anna Webb, who, in my opinion, is far more beautiful than the other.”

“Then you have seen her?” cried the prince.

“I saw her only a few days ago at Bamborough, and admired her greatly. She is really very handsome. I think Tom Forster is épris. No doubt Sir John Webb is returning to Dorsetshire with his family, and Tom is escorting them on their journey. I dare say we shall hear of an engagement by-and-by.”

“If she is as handsome as you describe her, Anna Webb ought not to be a rude fox-hunter’s wife,” said the prince. “But come! let us go and have a look at the two beauties. You have roused my curiosity.”

V. – ANNA WEBB AND DOROTHY FORSTER

How well the two beauties looked in their gay riding-dresses of scarlet and blue, trimmed with gold and silver lace, and plumed hats! Slight and graceful in figure, and nearly of an age, Anna Webb was a few months older than Dorothy, but she could not be more than nineteen.

Dorothy had cheeks like a blush-rose, tender blue eyes, and flaxen tresses, with features that could not be called regular, but were, nevertheless, excessively pretty; while Anna’s locks were of a raven hue, her eyes large, black, and lustrous, and fringed with silken lashes, her tint pale, yet clear, and her face classically faultless in outline.

If the palm of beauty could not be assigned to Dorothy, it must be owned that she had a more agreeable expression than Anna, whose short curling upper lip gave her a somewhat disdainful look.

But they were both lovely creatures, and quite enchanted the Chevalier de Saint George, as he first beheld them standing near a marble fountain at the edge of the large, smooth-shaven lawn near the terrace.

Close beside them was Lady Webb – a fine, stately, middle-aged dame, richly dressed in damask, and having a hoop petticoat, long stiff bodice, and a lofty head-dress.

She had a few patches on her face, and a large fan in her hand. Lady Webb had a haughty manner, and did not forget that she came of a noble family.

Sir John Webb, who paid great deference to his lady, was about sixty, and had a marked countenance, dark eyes, and a large aquiline nose. His bearing was soldierlike, which is not to be wondered at, since he had served under James the Second. But there was nothing military in his attire, which consisted of a square-cut, claret-coloured coat, richly embroidered with lace, a laced waistcoat with long flaps, cream-coloured silk stockings, shoes with high red heels, a long neck cloth bordered with Brussels lace, lace ruffles at his wrist, a sword by his side, and a well-powdered periwig on his head, surmounted by a small three-cornered hat. He carried a gold-headed clouded cane in his hand, and occasionally produced a very handsome gold snuff-box.

The Webbs were strict Roman Catholics, and devoted to the House of Stuart. In fact, Sir John had followed the exiled monarch for a short time to Saint Germains.

Tom Forster, who was talking to him, and pointing out the beauties of the place with his riding-whip, looked exactly like what he was – a country squire, who rode hard, lived well, and drank hard.

In age, he could not be more than seven-and-twenty, and would have been considered very good-looking if the hue of his skin had not been somewhat too florid. Decidedly, he was like his sister, if a rather coarse man can be said to resemble a delicate girl. No one had better horses than Tom Forster – not even Lord Derwentwater – no one had better claret, and you might have plenty of it – perhaps, rather too much.

Tom Forster kept a pack of fox-hounds, and hunted regularly; and as he was hospitable, jovial, and good-humoured, he was exceedingly popular. Dorothy constantly rode to hounds, and was greatly admired for courage and skill, for she often gained the brush. But, as we have endeavoured to show, there was nothing masculine about her – nothing that could be objected to in her liveliness. On the contrary, her presence operated as a restraint upon her brother’s guests, and kept them within bounds.

Sir John Webb and his family had been staying for some little time at Bamborough Castle, and had been delighted with the ancient structure, which, whether from its situation on a lofty and almost perpendicular rock, overlooking the Northern Ocean, or from its well-preserved walls and square massive keep, may be justly considered one of the grandest castles in the kingdom. Another opportunity may occur for describing it more fully. Meantime, we may say that Anna Webb, who was of a somewhat romantic turn, had been especially delighted with the place. She remained for hours upon the ramparts gazing upon the sea, there studded with islands, and had even mounted with Dorothy to the summit of the keep, whence Lindisfarne and its ancient churches could be clearly descried. Luckily no shipwrecks occurred at the time on that dangerous and rock-bound coast, so that she was spared any such dreadful sight, and no half-drowned mariners were brought for shelter to the castle.

Though Bamborough Castle belonged to Mr. Forster, he did not inhabit the ancient structure. His residence, which was comparatively modern, was close at hand. But several of the old towers were furnished, and in one of these Anna and Dorothy were lodged, at the particular desire of the former, who thus escaped the racket of a great house full of company, as well as the attentions of the host, who had fallen in love with her, but whom she could not tolerate. Every day there was a large party at dinner, and at these entertainments Anna was forced to be present, but she was always glad to get back to the quiet old tower.

One day, an important visitor unexpectedly arrived at the castle. This was the Earl of Derwentwater. Dorothy having described him to her, and had painted him in glowing colours, she was prepared for a very distinguished-looking personage. But he was far handsomer than she expected, and she was greatly struck by his manner as well as by his personal appearance. To her surprise and mortification, however, he paid her very little attention, and devoted himself exclusively to Dorothy, next to whom he was placed at dinner. That evening there were cards and music in the drawing-room. Lord Derwentwater begged of Dorothy to sing, and she readily complied, and charmed him with a lively ditty. When she had done, Tom Forster came up, and made his sister relinquish her place at the harpsichord to Anna.

Piqued by Lord Derwentwater’s indifference, and really possessing a splendid voice, Miss Webb exerted herself to the utmost. Never had she sung or played more brilliantly than on this occasion – never had she looked more lovely: Lord Derwentwater was electrified, and seemed suddenly conscious of her transcendent beauty. Hitherto he had scarcely observed her, but now she riveted his regards. Warmly applauding her performance, he prayed her to repeat it. Instead of doing so, she struck up a little French lay, with which he was familiar, but which he had never before heard sung with such liveliness and spirit.

At Lady Webb’s instance, Anna gave some further proofs of her extraordinary vocal power. Her triumph was complete. She felt sure she had captivated the young earl, who remained by her side during the remainder of the evening. Indeed she fully expected a proposal on the morrow – but when the morrow came, Lord Derwentwater was gone. He had set off at an early hour, long before she and Dorothy came from the tower.

Why had he departed so suddenly? No one could tell. Anna was greatly put out; but she was not half so much disappointed as Lady Webb, who thought her daughter had secured a great prize. Good-natured Dorothy had manifested no resentment at being cut out by her friend. Tom Forster had felt rather jealous, but as he really had received no encouragement from Miss Webb, he could not complain.

The Webbs remained ten days longer at Bamborough Castle, and during this time nothing was heard of Lord Derwentwater.

But Lady Webb was determined not to give him up without another effort. So she told Tom Forster that she should like immensely to see Dilston, and he promised to take them all there, on their return to Dorsetshire.

The plan was carried out, as we have shown. Some on horseback, some in Sir John’s great family coach, encumbered by an immense quantity of luggage, attended by a couple of female servants, the party left Bamborough Castle after an early dinner, supped and slept at Morpeth, and set out next morning for Dilston.

VI. – LADY WEBB

ANNA Webb, who rode a capital horse, provided for her from the Bamborough stables, and was accompanied by Tom Forster and his sister, was greatly struck by the view of the castle at the end of the vista formed by the long avenue of chestnut trees; and if we may venture to reveal the secrets of her breast, we must state that she ardently desired to become the mistress of that stately mansion. Nor was this desire lessened when she entered the great quadrangular court and gazed around it.

Certain of a hearty welcome, Tom Forster rode in first, and cracked his hunting-whip loudly, as he passed through the gateway, to summon the servants. Newbiggin and three or four footmen rushed down the perron to meet him. He contented himself with announcing to the butler that he had come to dine with his lordship, and pass the night at the castle, and had brought Miss Forster and Sir John Webb and his family with him, and then jumping from the saddle, gave his horse to one of the servants. To his surprise, Newbiggin looked rather embarrassed.