Volume Iii Part 9 (1/2)
The Douglas then caused a herald to make proclamation in a stentorian voice; first stating the cause why he had put off the execution of Sir Richard Musgrave until that day, namely, his anxious desire to save the life of the n.o.ble youth, on the ground that the purposed holding out of the garrison till the twenty-fourth was a chimera; and, secondly, declaring that, unless the keys of the castle were previously delivered up to him, precisely at the hour of noon, the n.o.ble and gallant Sir Richard, the flower of English chivalry, should be put down; and the beautiful and accomplished Lady Jane Howard, the betrothed bride and devoted lover of Lord Musgrave, subjected to a fate the most humiliating, and the most deplorable, that ever n.o.ble maiden suffered, and that in full view of both armies. A loud murmur of detestation sounded from the walls of the castle, but the columns of the Scottish army stood and looked on in mute and tender sorrow.
Lord Musgrave placed himself right opposite the prisoners, turned his face straight toward them, and gazed with an unmoved and undaunted air. Sir Richard addressed him in the same sentiments he had formerly expressed, the purport of which was, it will be remembered, the madness and folly of holding out the castle, now when the bright and unequalled prize for which he contended was lost. For his own life, he said, he accounted it as nothing in the scale; but the fate that awaited the lady of his love, who had shewn such devotion to his person and interests, was not to be endured or permitted by any knight of honour. Lady Jane cried out to him to save her from a doom before which her whole soul shrunk; adding, that she had done much, and suffered much, for him, and would he not make one effort, one sacrifice, to save her?
”Lord Douglas,” cried Musgrave, ”Will not a formal consignment of all my lands, t.i.tles, and privileges in the dominions of England, ransom the lives of these two?”
”Not if they were ten times doubled,” returned the Douglas: ”Nor shall any earthly thing ransom them, save the full and free possession of the castle of Roxburgh. I have myself suffered a loss at your hands, of which you are not aware; and I long and thirst to revenge it on you and your house.”
”Then my resolution is fixed!” cried Musgrave: ”Though all England should deprecate the deed, and though I know my brethren in arms disapprove of it, I must and will redeem the lives of these two. Yes, I will save them, and that without abating one iota from the honour of the house of Musgrave. Not make one effort, Lady Jane? Not one sacrifice to save your honour and life? Effort, indeed, I will make none. But, _without_ an effort, I will make a sacrifice of as high estimation for you as ever knight offered up for the lady of his love.
Perhaps it may not be in my power to save you; but in the sight of these rival armies,--in yours my only brother and betrothed bride,--and in the sight of heaven,--I offer the last ransom that can be offered by man.” As he said these words, he flung himself headlong from the battlement of the western tower, struck on the mural parapet around the lower platform, then on the rampart, from which he flew with a rolling bound, and flashed with prodigious force into the ample moat. There, by the weight of his armour, he sunk forthwith to rise no more. The troops of the rival nations stood aghast, with uplifted hands, gazing on the scene; but no more was to be seen of the gallant Musgrave! A gurgling boil of b.l.o.o.d.y water arose above him as he sank to the bottom,--and that was the last movement caused in this world by one whose life had been spent in deeds of high chivalry and restless commotion.
Excepting one shriek uttered by Lady Jane, the Douglas was the first to break the awful silence, which he did by these words: ”There fell a hero indeed! n.o.ble and resolute Musgrave! I cannot but envy you such a chivalrous fate as this!” Many such expressions of enthusiastic admiration burst from both armies, not in shouts of applause, for these were suppressed by sorrow, but in a low and melting pathos that bespoke the soul's regret as well as approval.
When these first expressions of feeling were over, the dark and manly countenance of Douglas sunk into more than usual gloom and dejection. All the advantages given him, and which he had deemed insurmountable by his opponents, were by this desperate act of Musgrave's extinguished. He had now no more power over the English garrison than what he could make good with his sword and his bow. To have executed his threats on Sir Richard, and the lovely and romantic Lady Jane, would only have been an act of poor and despicable revenge, which would have disgusted his own followers, and could in no degree have furthered his cause; so he ordered them back to confinement, with directions that they should be attended according to their rank.
What was next to be done? That was the great question. Douglas never once conceived the idea of giving up the enterprise; for though the princess for whom he had undertaken it was now no more, his broad domains were all engaged. The very existence of the house of Douglas depended on his success; and, besides, the king had more daughters, though none like his beloved and accomplished Margaret. Therefore Douglas had no hesitation regarding the necessity of taking the castle. He was determined to have it. But what to do next, in order to accomplish this determination, was the question. Circ.u.mstances were grievously changed with him. The garrison had got a supply across the Teviot-bridge during the time of the flood and the tempest, but the Scots could not ascertain to what amount. Sir Thomas Musgrave had been joined by some troops from the sh.o.r.es of Northumberland, and had issued forth with these and the greater part of the garrison of Berwick, to the amount of 5000 men, in order to make a diversion in favour of the garrison of Roxburgh. This movement by the governor of Berwick disconcerted the Douglas most of all. A party of these marauders had shewed themselves on the height about Hume castle, with trumpets sounding and colours waving in the air. From thence they marched on, keeping the backs of the hills, until they came into the lower parts of Leaderdale, which they harried, burning in their way the town and castle of Ercildon. They next made a movement towards Melrose, meaning to establish themselves in the rear of Douglas, and either to cut off his supplies, or force him to abandon the siege, in order to preserve his own country behind him. But when they came to the river Tweed they were opposed by the brave abbot Lawrence, not the feigned and infernal abbot that our yeomen left at Aikwood, but the real worthy and apostolic Lawrence himself. He had raised all the abbey va.s.sals and retainers, and shewed fairly disposed to dispute the pa.s.sage of the English over the river. In the meantime he posted message after message to Douglas, to come, or send to his a.s.sistance, before the abbey of the holy Virgin, with all its sacred stores, should fall into the hands of their ruthless enemies.
Douglas was hardly put to it. If he drew off from a close blockade, the English were sure to take advantage of his absence, make a sally, and procure plenty of more provisions; and, in that case, his only probable hope of success was cut off. On the other hand, if he suffered himself to be inclosed between two armies, his situation would become every day more precarious, and perhaps in the issue quite untenable. He was, therefore, in a manner forced to the resolution of making an effort to join father Lawrence, and of giving the captain of Berwick battle before he attained possession of the rich monastry of Melrose.
The time was now arrived when the support of Sir Ringan Redhough and his borderers was become absolutely necessary. Without their co-operation in a more close and decisive manner than that in which they had hitherto conducted themselves, he could not now proceed one foot, and his great cause was ruined. He therefore dispatched a pressing message to the chief, conjuring him as his friend and fellow-soldier, either to come and supply his place in the blockade of Roxburgh, or march with all expedition to Melrose, and give battle to the governor of Berwick. The dogged and unyielding Warden returned for answer, that it had always been his chief and undivided aim to act in concert with his n.o.ble and gallant friend, and lord superior, the Earl of Douglas and Mar. But that he had a peculiar charge from his Sovereign, of the English marches, which it was his bounden duty to attend to, prior to all other considerations. Whatever he could do conformable with this first duty, should not be wanting. Finally, he sent him word, as he had done formerly, ”that if he coudna take the castle, and confessed that he coudna take it, he might send word to him, and he wad take it for him.”
”What does the crabbed carle always mean by that answer?” said the Douglas, when it was reported to him: ”Perhaps he has some means of communication with those within the fortress, some secret friend in disguise among our enemies. Perhaps he knows of some weak or accessible point among these extensive bulwarks, or perhaps he reckons on some plausible means of surmounting them; for the devil's head is not more fruitful in expedients than his. This is a matter of such importance to me at present, that I must try to probe it to the bottom. Were I sure that he could accomplish his boasted feat, I had better engage him to it with one-third of my dominions; and at all events, I must procure the active a.s.sistance of his energetic force at present, whatever may be the equivalent required. Let my white stead Beaver be caparisoned, and my attendants in readiness; I must have an interview with this man of the mountains before I sleep.”
The Warden had drawn his force down to Wooller, with the intention of co-operating more effectively with the Douglas. He had heard of the advantages that lord held over his adversaries, but nothing of the late catastrophe by which they were all removed. Deeming therefore that the chances were mainly on the side of the Douglas, he judged it his safest course to act in complete concert with him. Above all, the words out of the black book of fate had been conveyed to him as read by the greatest magician in the world. From all that could be made out of that mystic rhyme, after long consultation, it appeared that it behoved the Warden and his friends to go hand in hand with Douglas.
”Rise not against feudal union--No advance but in communion,” were words hardly to be misinterpreted. The words of the prophecy, and the ludicrous metamorphosis were all taken into account, compared, computed, and over again computed,--and the sequel was a decisive resolution to support the Douglas and join issues with him. But, in the meantime, _still to make the most of a bad bargain_.
This resolution had been taken, and so far acted upon, that trusty agents had been despatched all over the country in disguise, to execute a portion of the great concerted plan, when the Douglas, at a late hour in the evening, arrived in the Warden's camp. He then had proofs experimentally of the Warden's caution and vigilance. He came upon his outposts at a great distance from the main body of his army.
These withstood his pa.s.sage, but seeing his retinue so small, for he was attended only by two knights, a squire, and a guide, they conducted him from one post to another, till at length they brought him completely guarded to the Warden's head-quarters; which was nothing more than a lowly cottage at Wooller haugh-head.
The doughty chief and his kinsmen were still sitting in earnest conversation round a rustic table, with a tremendous torch in the middle of it. This was nothing less than a huge broken jar full of refined ox's tallow, and a flow peat stuck to the head in the middle, which being kindled emitted a blaze like a fish light. The gallant kinsmen were in deep consultation anent their grand plan of warlike operations, and the more they conversed about it the more eligible did it still appear to them, and the more deeply did they get interested in it; so that when the knight in waiting announced a stranger who requested an interview with Sir Ringan, every one seemed disposed to refuse him admission.
”Tell him I am engaged,” said the Warden.
”O yes. By all means. Tell him we are engaged,” said d.i.c.kie o'
Dryhope.
”If it is another message from the Douglas, I have had enough of him,”
said the Warden.
”Ay, faith, we have had enough of him,” said d.i.c.kie.
”It is perhaps from Master Michael Scott'” said Yardbire: ”Or maybe himsel, wha kens. Lord sauff us!” ”D'ye think sae?” said the Warden, starting to his feet: ”That would indeed alter the case!”
”Ay, that would alter the case indeed!” said d.i.c.kie, starting to his.
”Who is he? or what is he like?” enquired the Warden.
”Ay, that is the princ.i.p.al thing to be attended to,” said d.i.c.kie; ”What is he like?”