|On descending the south side of the hill the earl and his troop passed
through a thick forest, and then entered upon a moor, in the midst of
which could be seen a remarkable cluster of rocks. These were Wanny
Crags, and on the highest of them floated the king's banner, showing
that the insurgents had taken up a position there.
On a nearer approach to this singular station, Forster and his men could
be descried, grouped like bandits on the rocks; while a great cleft
served as a stable for their horses.
As the earl drew nigh this natural fortress, Forster came down from
the lofty point he had occupied and bade him welcome, expressing the
greatest satisfaction at beholding him and his friends, and adding, that
no doubt now they were come, all would go well.
“You do not mean to pass the night among these rocks, I presume?” said
the earl.
“I came hither in the hope of gaining some recruits,” replied Forster,
“but have been disappointed. If your lordship had not joined me, I
should have returned to Rothbury. But now I think it will be best to
proceed to Warkworth. The castle is in our hands, and Lord Widdrington
will be there to-morrow with a troop of horse. I hope we shall soon be
strong enough to besiege Newcastle.”
“Nothing can be decided upon till our forces are organised, and we can
ascertain what assistance we are likely to receive from Scotland,”
said Lord Derwentwater. “From what you say, we shall be able to hold a
consultation with Lord Widdrington to-morrow, and can be guided by his
advice.”
Just then, a sentinel stationed on the highest crag, called out that
a troop of horse-militia was coming across the moor on the road from
Morpeth, and after Charles Radclyffe had examined the party through a
spy-glass he declared it was Sir William Lorraine, and the party he had
brought with him to Dilston.
“I recognise Sir William perfectly,” he said.
“And so do I!” cried Squire Hall, taking the spy-glass from him. “And I
am quite certain he is now on his way to Otterburn to arrest me. Leave
me to deal with him. Let the men conceal themselves behind the rocks, so
that he may not suspect the presence of so large a party.”
Since no harm could be done by humouring the eccentric squire, Lord
Derwentwater and Mr. Forster complied with his request, and, as he rode
off, they concealed their men as he had suggested.
As soon as Sir William Lorraine--for he it undoubtedly was--came in
sight of Wanny Crags, he was made aware by the flag that a party of
insurgents must be posted there.
But this discovery did not prevent him from going on, as he had no idea
the rebels were in any force, and did not imagine they could muster more
than a dozen at the outside.
As Squire Hall advanced, he recognised him, and called out to him
to stop, but the injunction being disregarded he repeated it more
authoritatively.
“You are my prisoner, sir,” he cried. “I hold a warrant for your
arrest.”
“I don't think you are likely to execute the warrant, Sir William,”
rejoined the squire laughing disdainfully.
“I would not advise you to offer resistance, sir,” said Sir William.
“And since there is no chance of escape, you had better surrender at
discretion.”
“I surrender!” exclaimed the squire. “I defy you and all your men to
arrest me.”
So saying, he wheeled round, and galloped back as fast as he could to
Wanny Crags.
The magistrate followed with the whole of his troop. He would not
allow them to fire, or the career of the fugitive would soon have been
checked.
The squire called out loudly as he drew near the crags, and in answer
to the cry, forty or fifty armed insurgents suddenly appeared at various
points; while an equal number of horsemen, headed by Lord Derwentwater
and Mr. Forster, came from behind the rocks.
Confounded by this unexpected sight, and instantly comprehending the
snare into which he had fallen, the magistrate would have fled,
but before he could stir, his bridle was seized by Squire Hall, who
exclaimed:
“You threatened to arrest me, Sir William. Now you are my prisoner.”
While the magistrate was hesitating, Lord Derwentwater called out:
“Bid your men lay down their arms instantly, Sir William, or we shall
fire upon them.”
“Hold! my lord!” exclaimed the squire. “I am very much mistaken if these
worthy fellows are not inclined to join us. Save your lives,” he added
to the militiamen, “and shout for James the Third!”
“Long live King James!” cried the whole of the troop.
“Ah, traitors! ah, rebels! is it thus you support your king?” cried the
magistrate.
“Harkee, Sir William!” cried the squire. “I would recommend you a little
more prudence. If you try to take our recruits from us we shall make
short work with you. Gentlemen,” he added to the others, “you are now on
the right side. Let neither threats nor persuasions lure you from it.”
“Do you propose to detain me, my lord, if I consent to deliver up my
arms?” said the magistrate to Lord Der-wentwater.
“No, Sir William,” replied the earl. “I am anxious you should take back
tidings of your own defeat to Morpeth. You cannot conceal it, since you
will not have your militiamen with you.”
With a deeply mortified look Sir William then delivered his sword to
Squire Hall, by whom it was handed to Lord Derwentwater, after which the
magistrate rode off by himself, and returned to Morpeth.
A very curious scene now took place, as the late enemies fraternised,
and professed the greatest regard for each other. All the militiamen
seemed now to be ardent Jacobites.
Greatly rejoiced at obtaining such an unexpected reinforcement, the two
leaders did all in their power to conciliate the new recruits, and were
by no means sparing in promises.
The party did not remain much longer at Wanny Crags, but proceeded to a
hill called the Waterfalls, from the circumstance of a spring running
in two different directions. Here they halted for a couple of hours at a
large farmhouse.
Thence they marched to Warkworth, their road lying for the most part
along the banks of the beautiful river Coquet.