THE SIEGE OF ASHLEY CASTLE
THE strength of our little garrison was but thirty-three men, of whom
but seven had had experience in the art of war. Yet I felt certain
that every one of the defenders could be trusted to the core, and
would acquit himself right manfully, and a glance at their set,
resolute features strengthened my opinion.
Of provisions we had plenty, while the two wells relieved us of all
anxiety regarding the supply of water. Ammunition, too, was
sufficient for a twelve months' siege, so that, provided the rebels
did not bring ordnance, we felt able to hold out till a turn in the
King's affairs might free us from the unwelcome attentions of the
Roundhead forces.
Over the grassy sward of the rolling down poured the rebel cavalry,
thinking, no doubt, to take us by surprise by their sudden
appearance. The slanting rays of the sun glinted on the armour-clad
troopers of Old Noll's own regiment of Ironsides (who had been
detached from the siege of Basing House) and on the musketoons of a
strong body of dragoons.
Finding the drawbridge raised, the rebel horse halted, and in serried
masses on the steep hillside they presented a mark too tempting to
ignore. Sergeant Lawson gave the signal, the gunners applied their
linstocks, and next instant our ordnance had opened fire.
This was more than they expected, for the guns, being well masked by
the gabions, were invisible to the rebels, though the latter soon
became acquainted with their contents, and, with shouts of baffled
rage, they wheeled and withdrew out of range, leaving two of their
number on the ground, while several others were wounded.
"First blood," exclaimed Firestone, with a laugh. "But we'll have the
whole swarm about our ears ere long."
It was as he said. The infantry took up an extended position on the
downs on either hand, and began to throw up rough earthworks, while
the horse, moving towards the open ground to the south of the castle,
completed the hedging circle of steel.
"They are without ordnance," I remarked to the colonel, as we watched
in silence the closing of the hostile lines.
"That is true," he replied. "Yet their artillery might be following,
for 'tis impossible for the ordnance to keep pace with the foot over
this hilly country. But see, a pair of horsemen advancing."
"They bear a white flag," exclaimed Granville.
"Keep our men in hand," said Firestone. "And let us learn the meaning
of this parley."
When within two hundred yards of the gateway the rebel horsemen
halted, and one blew a long note on the trumpet.
Hoisting a white flag had not occurred to us, so before we could
reply one of our men had to hasten to the living-apartments and
procure a tablecloth. This we fastened to a pike, and held it aloft
over the gateway.
Upon this the envoys advanced without hesitation. One was a young
cornet of dragoons, the other but a common trooper.
At the edge of the moat they drew rein, waiting doubtless for the
drawbridge to be lowered, but this was not our intention.
"Your message, sir?" I asked.
"My message is for the ears of Sir Humphrey Markham, now within the
residence known as Ashley Castle."
"I am he," I replied. "And if your message cannot be heard by ears
other than mine, 'tis best left unsaid."
"Have it then," said the cornet. "'Tis this: General Cromwell offers
a safe-conduct to Sir Humphrey, his officers and garrison, on certain
conditions, amongst which the castle must be delivered, without
malicious damage, into the hands of Captain Chaloner."
"Captain Chaloner?" I asked amazedly.
"Ay, Captain Chaloner. I trove he is already known to you? Failing
which, the castle will be carried by storm, and no quarter given to
the garrison or inmates."
"Is that all?"
"Verily, 'tis enough," replied the cornet haughtily. "And most
comprehensive, even to a malignant."
"Withdraw, sir!" I exclaimed hotly, "or your flag of truce will not
protect you. This message to the renegade Chaloner: If he want the
castle, let him come for it in person!"
"Which he will do ere long," retorted the cornet, and, wheeling his
horse, he galloped back to the rebel lines.
So I had not slain Chaloner, after all. The news astounded me. Surely
the villain must bear a charmed life. But I resolved to take the
first opportunity of preventing the recreant officer from ever
setting foot within the castle, save as a prisoner or a corpse.
The enemy lost no time in ordering the attack. The dismounted
dragoons and musketeers, under cover of their trenches and the woods
nearest the castle, opened a hot fire, and soon there was a
semicircle of white smoke drifting lazily upwards in the still air
of that memorable afternoon.
[Illustration: _Ralph Granville and the pikeman were locked in an
unyielding embrace, and, before I could prevent the catastrophe,
Ralph was dragged through the embrasure and disappeared._]
We paid no heed to their fire, being well protected by the walls and
gabions. Of arms we had plenty, every man having not less than six
loaded muskets lying within arm's length, while each piece of
ordnance was loaded to the muzzle with small shot.
After a while the rebels, thinking no doubt that their fire had
demoralised us, sent out a strong body of pikemen. Many of them bore
bundles of hay and straw; others long planks and ladders, with which
they hoped to cross the moat and carry the walls by storm.
The most experienced commander would have found no fault with our
men, for in perfect silence and under complete control they kept
behind the breastworks, ready to spring up and open a furious fire on
the advancing pikemen. Firestone, his head enclosed in a steel
motion, walked slowly up and down the roof of the hall, smoking a
long clay pipe, which he removed at intervals to give a word of
advice to the men on the handling of their pieces.
Granville and I took up our position on the gatehouse tower, where
ten of the best of our musketeers were held in readiness, while at
the narrow window of the ground floor more men were placed to open
fire on those of the pikemen who succeeded in reaching the brink of
the moat.
"Are any of our men hit?" I asked of Sergeant Lawson, who had just
joined us with a message from Colonel Firestone.
"No, sir," he replied. "The sly dogs lie close."
"'Tis well. Can we but keep them unscathed till the time to open
fire, 'twill enable them to keep their courage up, for 'tis
disheartening to see a man fall and be unable to reply to the rebels'
fire. Not that I want to lose a single man, though 'tis too much to
expect to come out without a scratch."
Meanwhile the pikemen had been advancing slowly, as if inclined to
husband their strength for a final rush. The loads that some of them
were bearing also accounted for their slow progress, for those who
carried only their arms would not outstep their comrades. With them
was a sprinkling of dismounted dragoons, but I failed to see at their
head my especial enemy, Chaloner, though, knowing the man's natural
cowardice, I was not surprised.
It was not till the close ranks of the pikemen were within twenty
yards of the moat that the order to fire was given, and
simultaneously thirty muskets and three pieces of ordnance crashed
their contents into the press.
It seemed as if the solid wall of men was beaten down by a single
blow, for when the smoke had cleared away, most of the pikemen were
lying in a confused, struggling heap. Those who were not killed or
wounded had been overthrown by the shock and the surprise, or dragged
down by their stricken comrades.
A few here and there were left standing, and, joined by those who
were not touched, they pressed dauntlessly forward to the forlorn
attack. In spite of the fact that they were our foes, I realised that
they were Englishmen--and Englishmen of the good old fighting stock.
Staggering onward with their heavy burdens, the attackers strove to
throw a bridge across the moat, but the hay and straw merely floated
on the surface, the planks were too short, and the ladders too
fragile to use as a means of crossing; and then, and only then,
seeing the hopelessness of the assault, the pikemen slowly retired,
bearing with them their dead and wounded comrades, on whom our men
refrained from firing.
The besiegers had learnt a rough lesson, and henceforward contented
themselves by drawing a closer line of rough trenches round the
castle. For the next five days they did not offer to make an attack,
though at most unexpected intervals a volley would be fired from all
sides into our position, probably in the hope of striking some of us
down, or keeping us in a state of suspense.
At night we durst not show a light, otherwise there would be a heavy
fire poured in its direction, but later we adopted a plan of placing
shutters over all the apertures commanding the outside of the castle,
and we were in consequence free from molestation during the hours of
darkness.
If the rebels thought to starve us out, they were greatly
disappointed, for food there was, as I have said, in plenty. The
inaction told on the men's nerves more than anything else, and so,
partly in the hope of keeping them actively employed, and also for
the purpose of tricking our foes, Firestone ordered the garrison to
make a number of dummy men dressed in old buff coats, breastplates,
and steel caps.
These were shown just above the walls, and our men derived great
amusement by moving them slowly to and fro, while the rebels merely
wasted their ammunition.
Under the hail of musket bullets the windows of the great hall had
suffered considerably, the stained glass being shattered and the
delicate tracery splintered and chipped beyond repair. Thanks to the
stout oaken boards, however, none of the missiles entered the
apartment, though at times there was a continuous rattle like the
noise of a drum upon these serviceable barricades.
On the morning of the sixth day of the siege we sustained our first
casualty. A musketeer, one of the two farmers who had brought in the
news of the rebels' advance, was drawing water from the well in the
courtyard when a shot struck him in the forehead, laying him out dead
beside the bucket he had just raised.
From the nature and direction of the wound, 'twas evident the
Roundheads had opened a dropping fire with reduced charges, and for
the future none but mail-clad men were allowed to cross the
courtyard.
That night, in order to convince our foes that we had food in
abundance, we lowered ten sheep from the battlements to graze on the
scanty pasture between the wall and the moat, keeping the ropes still
fastened to them, so as to recover their carcases should any of the
animals be struck down by a chance shot. By this means we also
husbanded our supply of provender.
Granville, tired of the monotony of our position, next proposed that
we should make a sortie on the first favourable night, but to this I
would not agree, seeing that no good was likely to arise out of the
enterprise, though many valuable lives might be lost; but shortly
afterwards we had an episode that provided sufficient excitement to
satisfy my comrade's ardour.
It was a dark night. The rain beat down in blinding torrents, and,
exposed to the fury of the elements, our sentinels on the battlements
had a down-hearted task. Firestone, having had a very heavy day, was
fast asleep, but Granville and I determined to keep watch all night,
visiting the men at their posts at frequent intervals to prevent a
possible surprise.
We had discarded our defensive armour, and drawing our cloaks tightly
around our bodies, we ascended the battlements for the third time
that night.
At length we came to the lowest part of the walls, which here were
not more than thirty feet above the level of the moat, the inner edge
of which was not more than twenty feet from the base of the
stonework.
The sentinel was at his post, and reported nothing amiss, but just as
we were midway between his post and the next we heard a grating sound
against the coping. It was barely audible above the hiss of the
beating rain, but fortunately we stopped to discover the meaning of
it.
Through the darkness loomed the top rungs of a scaling-ladder and the
steel cap of a rebel pikeman.
Without a moment's hesitation Granville leant over the wall and
gripped the intruder by the throat, calling out to me to push away
the ladder.
Seizing a ramrod and giving the alarm, I put my whole might into the
thrust.
The ladder was heavy with armed men, yet my strength prevailed, and I
felt the mass of men and timber tremble as it slowly rose to a
vertical position. Then, to the accompaniment of cries of terror, the
ladder fell backwards, and, to my horror, I found that Granville and
the pikeman were locked in an unyielding embrace, and ere I could
prevent the catastrophe, Ralph was dragged through the embrasure and
had disappeared.
There was an appalling crash of broken wood and falling steel, a
heavy splash, and another outburst of shouts and cries.
Meanwhile the guard had arrived, and the rest of the garrison were
soon under arms, yet we were loth to open fire for fear of hitting
Granville, and also we dared not show a light.
At length there came the sound of retreating footsteps, and then all
was quiet.
"He is either dead or a prisoner," said Colonel Firestone, who, clad
in nothing but his invariable jackboots, long cloak, and steel
headpiece, had been one of the first of the sleeping garrison to
arrive on the scene.
"If he be a prisoner, we must rescue him," I cried.
"Who's for a rescue party?"
Several men signified their willingness to attempt the hazardous
work, but Firestone refused to listen to the proposal, pointing out
the hopelessness of the undertaking, when by now my companion, if not
dead, would be beyond help within the rebels' lines.
While we were still debating, there came the report of a musket from
the gatehouse; and fearing another attack, half of our party hurried
to the spot.
"There's a knocking at the postern, sir," explained the sentry, "but
I wouldn't open it."
"Quite right, quite right," replied Firestone, and striding over to
the wicket, he threw open a sliding hatch; then, keeping well to the
side for fear of a treacherous shot, he demanded, "Who goes there?"
"'Tis I, Granville," came my comrade's well-known voice.
With a shout of delight I made to unbar the gate, but Firestone laid
a detaining hand on my arm.
"Art alone?" asked the colonel.
"Yes, save for a half-drowned rebel," replied Granville, with a
slight laugh, and fearing no surprise, we thereupon threw open the
postern.
The next instant my companion came into the torchlight, pale,
drenched to the skin, and with blood streaming from a cut on his
forehead, while with him he brought the insensible body of a man,
whose booted legs trailed heavily over the stone cobbles.
"Do what you can for the rogue," he said breathlessly, for the man,
cased in breastplate and leather coat, was no light weight.
"Art hurt?" I asked anxiously.
"'Tis but naught," he replied, "though I would fain get rid of these
wet clothes."
While changing his garments he told us of what occurred after he had
been dragged over the wall. Fortunately, he had been thrown clear of
the ground, and, still gripping his foe, he had fallen headlong into
the moat, which at that place was barely five feet in depth.
With the shock of the sudden plunge the pikeman had relaxed his grip,
and, weighted down by his armour and accoutrements, he would have
surely been drowned had not Ralph held on to him and dragged his
senseless body to the edge of the moat. Keeping perfectly still in
the darkness, with the water up to his neck, Granville allowed the
rest of the discomfited rebels to recross the moat and make their way
back to their camp. Then, directly everything was quiet, he emerged
from his hiding-place, dragged the still insensible pikeman to the
postern, and regained the shelter of the walls.
The rest of the night passed without incident, but next morning a
tangle of broken ladders showed that the scalers had all but
succeeded in effecting an entry.
Then the question arose what was to be done with our prisoner? He had
now recovered, and seemed grateful to us for his good treatment.
At first it was suggested that he should be sent back, as we could
ill afford the trouble of keeping him in ward and also of feeding
him; but Colonel Firestone pointed out that he might come in useful
as a hostage or for purpose of exchange, so he was placed under guard
in one of our underground chambers beneath the gatehouse.
Later on in the day Firestone interrogated him, and obtained the
disquieting information that several pieces of heavy ordnance were
expected from the camp before Basing House, and that Cromwell, having
heard of Captain Chaloner's cowardice (he having refused to lead his
dragoons at the first assault), had ordered him to be the first in
the breach, under the penalty of being shot as a disgrace to the
Parliamentarian arms.
"Depend upon it," remarked Firestone, as he concluded his statement,
"before to-morrow we shall be in a tight corner."