Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715

On this there was a general movement towards the prince, who had now entirely changed his deportment, and received them all with dignified affability.

To Lady Webb he showed marked attention, and to each of the young ladies he had something pleasant to say, and soon relieved any uneasiness they might feel as to the freedom with which they had spoken to him.

This little ceremony over, he took Sir John Webb and Mr. Forster apart, and remained in earnest conversation with them for a few minutes.

He then returned to the ladies, and proposed a walk in the garden, to which they delightedly assented.

VII. – THE PROPOSAL

The gardens at Dilston, though somewhat formally laid out, as previously mentioned, were very beautiful, and were just then in perfection. The prince admired them very much, and of course everybody else was enchanted.

After wandering about for some time – now stopping to look at one object, now at another – the prince walked on with Lady Webb, and the party began to disperse, moving about in different directions.

Somehow or other, Lord Derwentwater found himself alone with Anna. He looked about for Dorothy, but she was a long way off with Charles Radclyffe, and no one was near them.

Close to where they stood was a rustic bench, shaded by a tree, and saying she felt a little fatigued, Anna sat down. Lord Derwentwater could not do otherwise than take a place beside her.

We will not say what thoughts agitated her breast, but she felt that the critical moment had arrived, and trembled lest any interruption should occur before the word was uttered that might decide her fate.

She did not look at the lovely parterre of flowers before her – nor listen to the plashing of the fountain – she heard nothing – saw nothing. But the accents she longed for were not breathed, and Lord Derwentwater remained silent. Why did he not speak?

Fearing the moment might pass, she raised her magnificent eyes, which had been thrown upon the ground, and fixed them full upon him.

Though he spoke not, he had been watching her, and the glance he now encountered pierced his breast. How much was conveyed in that long, passionate look! How eloquent was the earl’s reply! An instantaneous revelation was made to each of the state of the other’s heart. No longer any doubt. He knew she loved him. She felt he was won.

Yet, as if to make assurance doubly sure, he took her hand. She did not withdraw it, and still gazing tenderly at her, he said in a low voice, but which was distinctly audible:

“Can you love me, Anna?”

Her glance became even more passionate, as she answered:

“I can – I do.”

“Will you be mine, then?” demanded the earl, passing his arm round her waist, and drawing her towards him.

Her reply must have been in the affirmative, yet it was almost stifled by the kiss imprinted on her lips.

He had only just released her from this fond embrace, when they became conscious that they were not unobserved.

So engrossed were they by each other that they had not hitherto noticed the prince and Lady Webb on the further side of the lawn.

Lord Derwentwater, in a moment, decided on the course he ought to pursue.

“Come with me,” he said to Anna.

And, taking her hand, he led her towards her mother, whose feelings of pride and satisfaction may be easily imagined when the announcement was made, and her consent asked to their union.

But it was asked in a manner that does not belong to the present age, and her consent was given with equal formality, and accompanied by a blessing.

As they arose from their half-kneeling posture, the prince embraced the earl, and said to him:

“Accept my sincere congratulations, cousin. Lovelier bride you could not have found, and in every other respect she is worthy of you. And you, fair damsel,” he added to Anna, who blushed deeply at the high compliments paid her, “you may likewise be heartily congratulated on your good fortune. You have won a husband as noble by nature as he is by birth. All happiness attend you!”

These gracious observations produced a strong effect on the young pair to whom they were addressed.

The prince did not, however, tarry for their thanks, but hastened away, saying he desired to be first to communicate the joyful intelligence to Sir John Webb.

The rest of the party were assembled on the terrace, and when they saw the prince approaching, and noticed the peculiar expression of his countenance, some suspicion of the truth crossed them.

Sir John, therefore, was not surprised, though secretly enchanted, when a sign was given them to come forward, and, on obeying it, he learnt from his highness’s lips what had occurred. He did not attempt to disguise his satisfaction, and his loud exclamations soon let the rest of the party into the secret.

That the news was perfectly agreeable to all the others cannot be asserted. The hopes of Tom Forster and his charming sister were annihilated. But since the blow had fallen, it must be borne. So they concealed their disappointment with a smile.

We are not quite sure that Charles Radclyffe was anxious that the earl should marry, as his own position in the house might be changed by the event; but, at all events, he looked pleased. And Father Norham, who had an almost paternal affection for his noble patron, was certainly pleased, for he believed Lord Derwentwater had taken a wise step.

Sir John Webb, who had been made the happiest of men by the success of his wife’s scheme, hurried off to embrace his daughter and the earl, and give them his blessing, and all the others followed to witness the scene.

Again certain painful feelings were stirred in the breasts of Forster and his sister, but these were controlled, and all went off very well.

A proposition was next made by the prince, that met with ready acceptance from all concerned. It was that the earl and his chosen bride should be solemnly contracted together on the morrow.

“Lord Derwentwater and myself were brought up together like brothers,” he said. “Long ago, I promised to find him a wife. He has now found one for himself, and I entirely approve his choice. Since I can scarce hope to be present at his lordship’s marriage, it will be specially agreeable to me to witness his betrothal.”

This intimation was quite sufficient, and it was arranged that the ceremony should be performed by Father Nor-ham, and should take place, next morning, in the little chapel.

VIII. – COLONEL OXBURGH AND HIS COMPANIONS

M eanwhile, another arrival had taken place at the castle.

A party of horsemen, all well mounted, and well armed, rode into the court-yard, and claimed the earl’s hospitality, which could not be refused.

The party consisted of half a dozen Roman Catholic gentlemen – staunch Jacobites – who had banded together, and were in the habit of riding about the country to see how matters stood – sometimes stopping at one house, sometimes at another – and always heartily welcome, wherever they went.

The leader of the party was Colonel Oxburgh, who had fought and distinguished himself under James the Second. His companions were Captain Nicholas Wogan, Charles Wogan, and three other Jacobite gentlemen, named Talbot, Clifton, and Beaumont. They had pistols in their holsters, and swords at the side, and presented a very formidable appearance, as they rode together.

Colonel Oxburgh was an elderly man, but in possession of all his energies, and expected a command, if a rising should take place in favour of James the Third. He was tall and well-built, and though equipped in a plain riding-suit, had an unmistakable military air.

His companions were very much younger, and all of them looked like gentlemen – as indeed they were – the most noticeable being the two Wogans. Both of these young men were very good-looking, and graceful in figure. Captain Wogan had a very interesting countenance. As they had no servants with them, each carried a small valise attached to his saddle.

Colonel Oxburgh was an old friend of Sir John Webb – indeed, they had served together in Ireland – and, wishing to see him before he left the North, he was proceeding to Bamborough Castle with that object, when he learnt that Sir John and his family had just taken their departure, but meant to halt at Dilston. Thereupon, the colonel changed his course, and went to the latter place.

On his arrival, his first inquiries were whether Sir John was there, and, being quickly satisfied on this point by Newbiggin, he dismounted, and his companions followed his example. The horses were taken to the stables, and the bags ordered to be brought into the house, as if it had been an inn, and while this was being done, the colonel again addressed Newbiggin, and asked if there was any other company at the castle.

The butler smiled significantly.

“We have a very important person indeed here, colonel,” he said. “I need keep no secret from you and your friends, because you are all loyal. What will you say, gentlemen,” addressing the whole party, “when I tell you that the Chevalier de Saint George is here?”

“I should say the statement is scarcely likely to be correct, my good friend,” rejoined the colonel, dryly. “You are jesting with us.”