Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715. Ainsworth William Harrison

Colonel Oxburgh, he had no doubt. Of Forster’s loyalty he was not quite so sure, and he therefore paid him particular attention. But he had a gracious word for every one, and not a single person present could complain that the prince had over-looked him.

      Moreover, his highness took care to make it understood that he desired his presence should be no restraint to the company.

      The dinner therefore passed off admirably, and as the wine was not stinted, and bumpers were quaffed according to the good old custom, the enthusiasm of the guests rose to a very high pitch, and could scarcely be repressed. But it soon found vent when the cloth was drawn, and glasses were filled to the brim. The noble host arose and with him rose every guest – save one – and the hall rang with shouts of “Long live King James the Third.”

      Lady Webb and Dorothy then disappeared, and all the servants having left the room, except Newbeggin, whose discretion could be relied on, some serious discussion took place.

      As yet the prince had not made known his design of seeking an interview with the queen, his sister; and it was now, at his highness’s request, disclosed by Lord Derwentwater. A deep silence ensued.

      “It appears that you do not approve my plan, gentlemen,” remarked the prince after a short pause.

      “My liege,” replied Colonel Oxburgh, answering for the others, “we all hoped and believed that you were come to call us to arms, and we cannot conceal our disappointment when we find that, instead of making a determined attempt to recover the throne, which we are persuaded would be successful, your majesty is about to appeal to the queen, who has no sympathy or affection for you, and is hostile to our religion. Rest assured the attempt will be useless, if it does not lead to other ill consequences. Abandon it, therefore, I pray you. On the other hand, there is every reason to believe that an insurrection in your majesty’s favour would be attended with success. That we are fully prepared for it, I will not assert. But a very short time will enable us to get ready a sufficient force to march towards London, and we shall gather strength as we go on. None can be better acquainted with the feeling of the country than myself and my friends, who have visited the houses of half the Jacobites and High Church Tories in the North of England, and I can state positively that a rising would be hailed by many influential persons with the greatest enthusiasm. Should your majesty decide on leading the army in person – as I trust you will – thousands will flock to your standard, and you will find yourself resistless as well from the number of your followers as from the justice of your cause. That your majesty is the rightful King of England cannot be denied. Why then allow the crown to be kept from you – even for a day? Do not sue for it, but demand it; and if it be refused, take it!”

      The exclamations that arose from the company made it evident that they all agreed with the speaker. But though stirred by the colonel’s energetic language, the prince was not to be turned from his purpose.

      “I have already explained to Lord Derwentwater my reasons for the course I am about to pursue,” he said. “Like yourselves he has endeavoured to dissuade me from my design – but ineffectually. I propose to set out for London to-morrow, or next day, at the latest – and his lordship will accompany me.”

      “Without an escort?” cried Colonel Oxburgh. “That must not be. Since your majesty is resolved on this rash step, my friends and myself will attend you. Do I not express your wishes, gentlemen?” he added to the others.

      “Most certainly,” replied Captain Wogan, answering for the rest. “We shall be proud to escort his majesty, if he will permit us.”

      “I accept your offer, gentlemen,” said the prince. “I did not calculate on such good company.”

      “We may be of use to your majesty on the journey,” remarked Captain Wogan.

      “I doubt it not,” said the prince. “Will you go with me?” he added to Forster.

      “I pray your majesty to excuse me,” replied the squire. “I must frankly own I would rather not be engaged in the expedition.”

      “As you please, sir,” said the prince, with affected indifference. “I can do very well without you.”

      “I see that I have not made myself understood, my liege,” said Forster. “I am ready to fight for you, and if need be, die for you, but I will not be instrumental in delivering you to your enemies.”

      “Ah! I see I have done you an injustice,” said the prince.

      The conversation then took another turn, and a good deal of curiosity was manifested both by Sir John Webb and Colonel Oxburgh as to the prince’s future plans, but his highness displayed considerable reserve on this point, and did not choose to gratify them. Indeed, he soon afterwards retired, and Lord Derwentwater went with him, leaving Charles Radclyffe to attend to the company.

      Those were hard-drinking days, and the Jacobites were as fond of good claret as their predecessors the Cavaliers. We are afraid to say how many magnums were emptied on the occasion, but before the party broke up, which it did not do till a late hour, a general resolution was come to, that a more strenuous effort should be made on the morrow, to induce his majesty to forego his ill-advised journey to London, and instead of endangering his safety by such a senseless attempt, to set up his standard, and summon all his adherents to join him. Then he might proceed to London as soon as he pleased.

      A loud shout, with which his majesty’s name was coupled, concluded a vehement harangue made by Colonel Oxburgh, and the party broke up.

      Some of them retired to rest, but Tom Forster and two or three others adjourned to a smaller room not far from the butler’s pantry, where a bowl of capital punch was provided for them by Newbiggin.

      XI. – A MYSTERIOUS OCCURRENCE IN THE CHAPEL

      Anna Webb submitted unrepiningly to the penance enjoined by Father Norham. She remained in her own room, and was not distracted by a visit either from her mother, or Dorothy. Some refreshments were brought her by a female servant, but they were untouched. Several hours were thus passed in solitude and prayer, and night had come on. She wondered when the priest would come, according to his promise, to take her to the chapel.

      At length, he appeared, and desired her to follow him. Wishing to avoid the servants, who were crowded in the great hall, he led her down a back staircase to a small room on the ground floor, where he obtained a lantern. In another minute, they had crossed the court, and reached the door of the chapel.

      The little structure, it has been said, was screened by trees, and the place was so dark, it would have been difficult to find the door, save with the lantern’s aid.

      A slight shiver ran through Anna’s frame as she entered the building, but she attributed the feeling to the damp atmosphere. Meanwhile, Father Norham had lighted a couple of tapers at the altar, and their feeble glimmer enabled her to survey the place.

      Its simplicity and diminutive size pleased her, and reassured her. Knowing she would have to remain there alone till midnight, she might have felt some misgivings had the room been large and sombre. Fortunately, she was not aware that there was a vault beneath, in which rested the earl’s ancestors. Marble tablets were on the walls, but she did not read them.

      After an exhortation, to which she listened devoutly, the priest withdrew. Thus left alone, she knelt down at the altar, and was soon engrossed in prayer.

      For awhile she continued thus employed, but at length a feeling of drowsiness came over her, which she found it impossible to resist.

      How long she slept she could not tell, but when she awoke the place was buried in darkness.

      What had happened while she slumbered? And how came the tapers to be extinguished?

      Very much alarmed, she started to her feet, and somehow – though she scarcely knew how – made her way to the door.

      It was fastened. Father Norham must have locked it when he went out

      She was thus to be kept in that dreadful place – for dreadful it now seemed to her – till his return at midnight.

      She could not guess the hour, but she might have to wait long – very long! Moments seemed ages