Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715

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.