exertion, "it is my lot to fill the civic chair in these troublous
times; and truly my portion is not in pleasant places; but I am loyal,
sir, loyal. The king has knighted many a servant less worthy than
myself; and, but that Mrs Mayor is looking forward to the title, there
would be little good-will to the office from 'my lady' that is to be.
Now, sir."
The garrulous and ambitious minister of justice here paused, more for
lack of breath than words or will to utter them; and the stranger, who
had hitherto kept his hat just below his chin, waiting for a pause in
this monologue, replied--
"My message respects your prisoner."
"Well, sir, go on. Proceed, sir, I say. What! can't you speak? Why
stand there as if stricken dumb in our presence?"
The stranger did proceed the moment that an interval was granted.
"I am brief, your worship."
"Brief--brief--so am I; and my lady--that is, Mrs Mayor--though she
likes that I should, in some sort, furnish my tongue to an
acquaintance with the speech, so that I often speak of and to her as
such, you observe, that when it may seem good unto his Majesty's
pleasure, knighting my poor honesty"--here he made a slight
obeisance--"the words may fall trippingly off the tongue, as though we
were used to the title, and wore our honours like they who be born to
them, sir. Proceed, sir. Why stand dilly-dallying here? Am I to wait
your pleasure?"
"Mine errand is simply this:--A plot is laid for the escape of your
prisoner on his way to London; so that, unless means be taken to
hinder it, he will be liberated."
"Escape!--what?--where? We will raise the soldiery. How say you? I
will tell my lady instantly. Escape! If he escape I am undone. My
knighthood--my knighthood, sir, is lost for ever; and my lady--she
will ne'er look kindly on me again."
Here the little man arose, and, in great agitation, would have sought
counsel from his wife, but the stranger prevented him.
"This must not be; 'tis for your ear alone. Stay!"
His worship was too much alarmed to resist; and the other led him
gently from the door.
"If you will be guided by me you may prevent this untoward event. Let
him be conveyed with all speed aboard the king's ship that is in the
Irish Channel yonder; so shall you quit your hands of him, and
frustrate the plans of his confederates. This must be done secretly,
or his friends may get knowledge of the matter, who have had a ship
long waiting for him privily on the coast to convey him forthwith to
Scotland."
"I will about it directly. Dear me, I have left my glasses. The
town-clerk must be apprised. The jailer--ay, good--thinkest thou he
had not best be committed to jail?"
"Peradventure it will be prudent to do this. I will bear your orders
to the town-clerk for his removal."
"What, immediately?"
"When your worship thinks best; but I would recommend despatch."
"I will about it instantly. There--there--take this. I shall be at the
clerk's office myself shortly. Tell Mr Clerk to be discreet until I
come."
The little twinkling eyes of the functionary were overflowing at the
good fortune which revealed to him alone this vile Popish treason.
Thus happily frustrated by himself, it would doubtless be the means
of raising him from plebeian ranks to the honours of knighthood,
perhaps further. His head grew dizzy at the prospect. He shook the
stranger by the hand, who bowed and withdrew.
Soon a little antiquated clerk, with green spectacles mounted in huge
black rims, and a skin like unto shrivelled parchment, was seen
accompanying the stranger to the inn.
The bolts opened to this demi-official, and they were at once ushered
into the prisoner's chamber. He had already arisen, and was pacing the
apartment in great haste.
"We come, sir," said the clerk, "to announce your removal; but first
we search for plots. This rebel's disguise--where, sayest thou, is it
concealed?"
"Upon his person," said the stranger.
"Pray doff that noble suit, sir," said the jocose purveyor of justice.
The prisoner, with an angry scowl, in which both grief and
astonishment were mingled, silently obeyed the mandate; and displayed,
underneath these coarse habiliments, a complete suit of female
apparel--the very clothes worn by Katherine Grimes at the time of her
disappearance.
"A well-contrived disguise, sir, truly. I wot you can suddenly change
your gender at a pinch," said the clerk, chuckling at his own
impertinence. But the prisoner, no longer dumb, as aforetime at the
farm, answered, in a voice that awed even this presuming minion, with
all the attributes of both law and power at his grasp.
"Why call you me sir, Sir Knave? I own no nicknames, and I answer to
none. My title is Derwentwater."
"The titular earl, truly; but now Charles Ratcliffe, since your
brother was"----
"Hanged, thou wouldst say," said the unfortunate and attainted peer,
interrupting him; "it was his lot, as I pray thine may be, when the
king shall have his own again. Silence!" continued he, in a commanding
tone, as one accustomed to be obeyed. "I own it was my purpose to
escape; but there is treachery in the camp--treachery in our own
bosom--treachery"--here he cast a keen glance at the stranger--"ay,
where our best feelings were cherished. I have leaned on a spear, and
it hath pierced me! deeper than I thought--in this hard and seared
heart."
A strong and painful emotion came over his dark features; he clenched
his hands; but the stranger betrayed no symptoms of compunction.
"Now, sir, I am ready," said the earl; "make my fetters tight; or
perhaps I may be spared that indignity."
But the proud Earl of Derwentwater would not stoop to propitiate.
"Nay, bind them, and I will be prouder of their insignia than of all
the honours, all the trappings, that George Guelph can bestow."
"We have orders merely for your safe keeping in the jail," said the
clerk; "to which the proper officers will see you conveyed."
He was accordingly removed to the town jail, then situated to the west
of Friargate. This building had been formerly a Franciscan convent of
Grey Friars, or Friars Minor, built by Edmund, Earl of Lancaster, son
of Henry III., in 1221, to which Robert de Holland, who impeached
Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, for high treason, contributed largely, and
was buried there. In its original state it was a small collegiate
building, with a chapel attached to its quadrangular cloisters. By the
mutations of time, it became the residence of the Breares of
Hammerton, in Bowland; next a house of correction, until the prison at
the bottom of Church Street was erected in 1790.
The clerk, being more particular in his inquiries than his worship,
addressed the stranger as follows when their mission was ended:--
"Thou hast given good evidence of this plot, and too full of
circumstance and confirmation to be disbelieved. The name is Oswald
thou sayest, and one of the party who have plotted for his rescue?"
"I have told thee of this before," replied the stranger, sullenly.
"What should prompt thee to betray him?"
"The same that prompts thee to minister to the hangman's trade--gold!"
"Humph!" replied the other drily, wiping his spectacles; "and what
will satisfy your craving?"
"Why, thinkest thou that I deserve not a reward for my loyalty and
readiness to reveal this plot? I will to London with the prisoner; the
king will not fail to grant me great largess for what this proud
lack-land calls my treachery."
"Why an it be a noose mayhap: for my part," continued the greedy and
disappointed man of law, "I have touched never a doit of the bounty,
though I have got many a sound rating, and am harder worked than a
galley-slave, without even so much as a 'thank ye' for my pains. The
mayor himself, who dreams he shall be knighted, may whistle a duet
with 'my lady' as he calls her, as long as a county precept, or ere
his title be forthcoming, though it be only a puff of empty breath.
There's no luck in being loyal; neither honour nor honesty thrive
therein. But 'tis the spoke that's uppermost; and so are we."
"Thinkest thou that I may get no share of the reward for his
apprehension?" inquired the avaricious betrayer.
"Yes; Judas's reward, maybe, who sold his Master," said the
indomitable clerk, much diverted by his own talents for tormenting.
"Hold--I bethink me thou mayest claim the earl's linsey-woolsey gown
and petticoats."
A loud laugh proclaimed that he had fully appreciated his own wit;
though the stranger made no comments thereon.
"To-night, thou sayest, a boat will be in readiness, one hour before
midnight and by the mayor's orders?"
"Yes; arrangements will be made, and soon after daylight we shall have
our prisoner safe aboard the king's cruiser," replied the stranger,
"for I know her bearing to a league."
"Thou wilt with us then?"
"Why, ay, if they will grant me a free passage. I would fain see him
safe at head-quarters."
"I know not but thou art right; though, rest thee satisfied, he shall
be sufficiently guarded."
The worthies here separated--one to his indictments and his desk, the
other to gloat on the mischief he had either committed or prevented.
About an hour before midnight a heavy jarring sound announced to the
prisoner that the time was at hand for his departure.
"Quick--quick, sir," said the jailer; "the mayor and his posse will
see you safe aboard."
"The mayor! Wherefore comes he to swell the procession?"
"A prisoner of your rank and influence must be well looked after, I
guess. The mayor will see you safely afloat, sir, and then he may go
home with a quiet heart. He has had sore misgivings on account of your
safety."
The earl accompanied his keeper; a close carriage was at the gate,
well guarded. Mr Mayor and his green-eyed clerk took their seats with
the prisoner: and the heavy vehicle rumbled dismally through the now
deserted streets, wakening many a drowsy burgher as it passed.
They gained the low landing-place without interruption, having taken
the precaution to chain the legs and wrists of their prisoner to
prevent escape. The mayor and his shadow, the gossiping clerk, stepped
out first, the carriage being well guarded on each side. Conducted
along a jet or wooden pier, they saw a fishing-boat lying beneath. The
waves flapped heavily on her sides, beating to and fro against the
pier. Four rowers were leaning silently on their oars, awaiting the
arrival of their cargo; their dark, low-crowned hats heaving above the
dim light which yet lay upon the water.
The wind howled in the rising sail, and the creaking cordage whistled
through the block. The sail was hoisted. The wind was fresh, and the
rowers raised their oars. The earl was lifted into the boat by two of
the attendants. The jailer next stepped in; three other myrmidons of
justice followed.
"You know the offing well, my lads, I guess?" said the jailer.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied several voices.
"Where is the king's cutter?" said he, addressing the stranger, who
was already in the boat.
"Lying to, between us and the Peel of Fouldrey," replied he.
"This is a strange boat I think," said the inquisitive jailer.
"We came with fish to market from Church Town," was the reply.
"One of your own men engaged her," said the stranger; "and these have
grumbled long and hard enough, that they should have the ill-luck to
be pressed into this disagreeable service."
"I would you had laid your paws on some other boat. We shall ha' na'
luck after this," said the elder of the seamen. "You may hire another
now, and welcome."
But there were none at hand. The jailer, with a hearty curse at his
insolence, bade him be silent and push off.
"Hast thou gotten the memorial touching my poor services to the king?"
inquired the trenchant mayor.
"Have ye gotten the warrant safe, and the prisoner in close custody?"
inquired the clerk.
But the boat pushed from shore, and the answer was scarce heard,
mingling with the rush of the waves and the hollow wind, while the
trampling of horses and the rumbling of the coach announced the
departure of Preston's high and illustrious ruler and his learned
clerk: one to dream of swords, knights, and drawing-rooms; the other
to soar through those mystic regions, sublime and
incomprehensible--the awful, inscrutable forms, fictions, and
subtleties of law.
The boat soon gained the mid-channel. The wind was favourable, and the
tide, beginning to return, swept them rapidly down the river. The
stranger, at whose instigation this plan had been adopted, lay in the
little cabin, or rather coop, wrapped in a fisherman's coat,
apparently asleep. Derwentwater sought not repose; he sat, moody and
silent, in a deep reverie, unconscious or insensible to all but his
own dark and untoward fate.
The loud dash and furrowing of the wave, the roar of the wind, and the
cry of the boatman as he gave the soundings, were often the only
audible sounds. No one was inclined to converse, and the roll and
pitching of the boat when they approached the river's mouth made the
jailer and his friends still less willing to disturb their comrades.
After nearly four hours the lights of the little fishing hamlet of
Lytham were passed, and they were fast entering upon the open sea. The
stranger came out of the cabin, stationing himself by the steersman.
They were evidently on the look-out for signals. It was not yet
daybreak, and the wind was from the north, a bitter and a biting air,
that made the jailer's teeth to chatter as he raised himself up to
examine their course and situation as well as the darkness would
permit.
"How long run we on through these great blubbering waves ere we end
our voyage? This night wind is worse than a Robin Hood's thaw."
"We will hoist signals shortly," was the reply; "if the ship is within
sight, she will answer and bring to."
"Have ye any prog[iv] aboard?" inquired the officer.
A bottle was handed to him. He drank eagerly of the liquor, and gave
the remainder to his assistants.
"I wish with all my heart," said he, "the prisoner were safe out of my
custody, and I on my way back. I had as lief trot a hundred miles on
land bare-back as sit in this confounded swing for a minute. How my
head reels!"
He leaned against one of the benches, to all appearance squeamish and
indisposed.
A faint light now flickered on the horizon and disappeared. Again. It
seemed to rise above the deep. They were evidently approaching towards
it, and the stranger spoke something in a low tone to the steersman.
"Yonder it be, I reckon," said the jailer, lifting up his head on
hearing an unusual bustle amongst the crew. "I am fain to see it, for
I am waundy qualmish dancing to this up-an'-down tune, wi' nought but
the wind for my fiddle."
"And who pays the piper?" asked a wavering voice from below.
"Thee Simon Catterall, bumbailiff, catchpole, thieftaker, and"----
Here a sudden lurch threw the jailer on his beam-ends. A pause was the
result, which this worthy official was not inclined to interrupt.
A light hitherto concealed, was now hoisted up to the masthead. This
was apparently answered by another signal at no great distance.
"Friends!" said the stranger; "and now hold on to your course."
They had passed the banks and were some leagues from shore. Morning
was feebly dawning behind them, when the dark hull of a ship, rapidly
enlarging, seemed to rise out, broad and distinct, from the thin mist
towards the west. The loud and incessant moan of the waves, the dash
and recoil of their huge tops breaking against the sides of the
vessel, with voices from on board, were distinctly heard, and
immediately the boat was alongside.
The transfer of their cargo was a work of more difficulty, partly
owing to the clumsiness and unseamanlike proceedings of the men who
had charge of the prisoner, and partly owing to the light being yet
too feeble for objects to be distinctly seen. A considerable interval
in consequence elapsed ere the jailer, his assistants, and their
charge were hoisted on the deck, not of a trim, gallant war-ship, well
garrisoned and appointed, but of a lubberly trading vessel, redolent
of tar, grease, and fish-odours, bound for merry Scotland.
"Yoh-o-ih! There--helm down--back maintopsail. So, masters, we had
nigh slipped hawser and away. Why, here have we been beating about and
about for three long nights; by day we durst not be seen in-shore. Yon
cruiser overhauls everything from a crab to a crab-louse. What! got
part of your company in the gyves! Where is the earl?"
"Here!" said the prisoner, coolly.
"Hold, captain," cried the wondering jailer, "the vessel goes not on
her voyage until I and two of my friends here depart with the boat; we
go not farther with our prisoner. The remaining two will suffice to
see him delivered up at head-quarters. Yet, this cannot be." Here the
bewildered officer looked round. "I have a warrant to commit this
rebel unto the safe keeping of--ay, the captain of his majesty's
cutter, the _Dart_. But this," surveying the deck with a suspicious
glance, "is as frowsy and fusty a piece of ship-timber as ever stowed
coals and cods' tails between her hatches. I pray we be not nabbed!"
said he in a supplicating tone to his head craftsman.
The prisoner himself seemed as much surprised as any of the group; but
the stranger, now addressing him, unravelled the mystery.
"My lord; I am no traitor; though until now labouring under that
imputation; but you are amongst friends. Thanks to a woman's wits, we
are, despite guards, bolts, and fetters, aboard the vessel which was
waiting for us when you were surprised and seized, unfortunately, as
we were trying our escape towards the coast. With the aid of my
parent, I have been at last successful. You are now free!" It was
Katherine who said this.
She changed her hitherto muffled voice as she continued:--"Captain, we
have nabbed as cunning a jailer as ever took rogue to board in a stone
crib. We will trouble thee to use thy craft; undo these fetters,
prithee. He must with you, captain, till you can safely leave him and
his companions ashore; but use him well for his vocation's sake. My
lord, through weal and woe I have been your counsellor--your friend;
but we must now part--'tis fitting we should. While you were in
jeopardy, that alone could excuse my flight. Should better times
come!"----Her voice faltered; she could not proceed; and old Grimes
drew his hat over his face.
"Father," said Katherine, "you will take me to our home again. I will
be all to you once more; and to my mother, now that _he_ is safe."
One kiss from the gallant earl, and the high-minded, though low-born,
maiden stepped into the boat. One wave of the hand, when the morning
mist interposed its white veil, and parted them for ever;--yet not
before old Grimes, taking a last survey of the vessel, was quite sure
he saw the magician of the casket looking at him over the ship's side.
In all probability his fancy had not deceived him; the affair of the
casket, though supposed by the fisherman to be altogether of a
supernatural nature, was, in all likelihood, a means of supplying the
earl with money and information to aid his escape.
The subsequent history of this unfortunate but misguided chieftain,
whose daring and audacious bravery was worthy of a better cause and a
more disinterested master, is but too well known.
The vessel, being ill equipped and hardly sea-worthy, was pursued--the
earl taken, and an ignominious death gave to the world assurance of a
traitor.
[Illustration: THE MAID'S STRATAGEM]
THE MAID'S STRATAGEM;
OR,
THE CAPTIVE LOVER.
"Let me alone with him. If I do not gull him into a nayword,
and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit
enough to lie straight in my bed."
--_Twelfth Night._
The following tale is perhaps the most apocryphal in our
series. There has been considerable difficulty in fixing its
locality: and, indeed, we are hardly sure that the names,
dates, and places we have hit upon, will answer to the facts in
every particular. We have done our best to verify it, and have
succeeded, we trust, in the attempt, more to our reader's
satisfaction than our own.
"There be more fools than farthingales, and more braggarts than
beards, in this good land of ours. A bald-faced impertinent! it should
cost the grand inquisitor a month's hard study to invent a punishment
for him. This pretty morsel! Hark thee, wench; I'll render his
love-billet to thine ear. Listen and be discreet.
"'If my sighs could waft the soft cargo of their love to thy
bosom, I would freight the vessel with my tears, and her sails
should be zephyr's wings, and her oars love's fiercest darts.
If I could tell but the lightest part of mine agony, your heart,
though it were adamant, would melt in the furnace of my speech,
and your torture should not abate till one kind glance had
irradiated the bosom of your most unhappy, and most wretched of
lovers,
ANTONIO.'
"Now for the _post scriptum_. If thy sighs be as long as thine
ears,----help the furnace they are blown through. Again.
"'If one ray of compassion lurks in your bosom, lady, let those
radiant fingers illuminate your pen, touching one little word
by way of answer to this love-billet, though it were but as a
rope thrown out in this overwhelming ocean of love to keep from
sinking your unhappy slave. These from my dwelling at ----.'
"O' my troth, answer thou shalt have, and that quickly, on thy fool's
pate. Dost think, Marian, it were not a deed worth trying, to quell
this noisome brute with a tough cudgel?"
"It were too good for him," replied the maid; "but if you will trust
the rather to my conceits, lady, we will make this buzzard spin. He
shall dance so rare a coarnto[v] for our pastime; beshrew me, but I would
not miss the sport for my best holiday favours."
But we leave the beauteous Kate and her mischief-loving maiden, to
plot and machinate against the unsuspecting lover. It behoveth us,
moreover, to be absent for a somewhat grave and weighty reason, to
wit, that when women are a-plotting, another and a more renowned
personage--the _beau ideal_ of whose dress and personal appearance,
according to the testimony of a reverend divine, consists of a black
coat and blue breeches--generally contrives to be present, as was by
that learned dignitary umquhile set forth in a well-known ditty, of
which the veracity is only equalled by the elegance and propriety of
the subject, and the classical dignity of its composition.
Leaving them, though in somewhat dangerous company, we just glance at
the lover, whose epistle to the proud maiden proved so galling to her
humours.