Читать книгу Preston Fight: or, The Insurrection of 1715 - Ainsworth William Harrison - Страница 2

A SPLENDID place was Dilston Castle in Northumberland, the seat of the young Earl of Dervventwater, in the early part of the last century.

Crowning an eminence, overlooking a most picturesque district, approached by a long avenue of chestnut trees, and surrounded by woods, extending to the banks of the Tyne, the mansion formed a conspicuous object from whichever side it might be viewed.

Dilston Castle could not boast antiquity, having only been built some sixty years prior to the date of our story, by Sir James Radclyffe, subsequently created Earl of Derwentwater by James the Second, but it occupied the site of an old Border fortress, called Devilstone – since modified to Dilston – that had often resisted the incursions of the Scots.

Of this stronghold, which dated back to the time of Henry the First, only a single memorial was left, in the shape of a grey stone tower – all the rest having been demolished.

The mansion formed a square, and enclosed a spacious court with a fountain in the centre. The principal entrance, approached by a large person, was inside the court, and faced a grand gateway, that terminated the chestnut avenue.

Close by, though screened by trees, was a little chapel, wherein the rites of Rome were performed – the Radclyffes being strict adherents to the old religion. Hereabouts, also, stood the grey stone tower, before alluded to, and some chambers within it were still used.

As may be supposed, from its size, the mansion contained some magnificent apartments, and these were sumptuously furnished. Large gardens, laid out in the formal French style, and ornamented with terraces, flights of stone steps, statues, and fountains, added to the attractions of the place.

Beneath the acclivity, whereon stood the castle, was a romantic and beautiful dell, the sides of which were clothed with brushwood. Through the midst of the ravine rushed a stream, called the Devil’s Water – bright and clear, despite its name – that hurried on, unless checked by a huge rock, or some other impediment, when it spread out into a pool. In places, the glen had a weird look, and many strange legends were connected with it.

The picturesque beauty of the spot was materially heightened by a lofty bridge flung across the hollow, and leading from the castle to the deer-park.

From this bridge, the stately structure, with the charming and diversified scenery around it, could be contemplated to the greatest advantage.

The park boasted many ancient oaks and ash-trees, and was well stocked with deer; the neighbouring moors abounded with grouse, the smaller streams with trout, and the Tyne with salmon. Better shooting and fishing could not be had than at Dilston.

The noble owner of this proud mansion, and the extensive domains attached to it, had succeeded to the title and estates on the death of his father, the second earl, some five years previously. In addition to Dilston, Langley Castle, and Simonburn in Northumberland he had large estates in Cumberland, and one side of the lovely lake of Dervventwater, from which he derived his title, belonged to him. Moreover, he had lead mines at Alston Moor that produced a very large revenue.

Notwithstanding his immense wealth and importance in the county, the young earl led a very retired life. As a Roman Catholic, he laboured under disabilities that prevented him from taking part in public affairs. But he maintained a numerous establishment, and was extremely hospitable, and his chaplain and almoner, Father Norham, distributed a tithe of his large income in charity.

Loyal to the sovereign he recognised, firm in the faith he professed, devout, charitable, courteous, courageous – such was the Earl of Derwentwater at twenty-two, when we first meet him.

The young earl’s personal appearance was extremely prepossessing. Tall, and well-proportioned, he had finely-formed features, with blue eyes and fair locks. He was fond of all manly exercises, a daring horseman, a master of fence, and a good shot. Several important alliances had been proposed to him, but he was still unmarried.

Charles Radclyffe, his only brother, and his junior by a year and a half, resided with him at Dilston. There was a great personal resemblance between them. Like his brother, Charles Radclyffe was an enthusiastic Jacobite, and ready to run any risk for the restoration of the Stuarts.

Viscount Radclyffe and Langley, as the Earl of Derwentwater was styled in his father’s lifetime, had been brought up at the court of the exiled monarch, James the Second, at Saint Germains, as a companion to the young prince, James Edward, who was about his own age, and to whom he was nearly allied by consanguinity – Lord Radclyffe’s mother being a natural daughter of Charles the Second.

Constantly together, and sharing the same studies and the same sports, the cousins, as they were called, became greatly attached to each other, and no change had taken place in their sentiments when James the Second breathed his last, dying, as those in attendance on him avouched, in the odour of sanctity.

By the express desire of Queen Mary of Modena, Lord Radclyffe remained at Saint Germains until after the death of William the Third, and the accession of Anne, mixed up in the various Jacobite plots, of which that court was then the hot-bed, until the decease of his own father in 1705, compelled him to return to England, in order to take possession of his estates.

On his departure the young earl renewed his professions of loyalty and devotion to the Chevalier de Saint George, as the prince was now designated, and promised to hold himself in constant readiness for a summons to rise. He also took an affectionate leave of the queen, who embraced him like a mother, and gave him her blessing.

Five years flew by, during which an attempt at invasion was made by Chevalier de Saint George with a squadron under the command of the renowned Forbin, but the prince was unable to disembark, and consequently Lord Derwentwater was not called upon to join him.

Discouraged by this ill-success, and receiving no further support from Louis the Fourteenth, the prince joined the French army under Villars, and fought bravely at Malplaquet.

Ever since his return from Saint Germains Lord Derwentwater had resided at Dilston. He lacked a mother’s care, for the countess had long been dead, but he was watched over and counselled by Father Norham, an excellent man, who had been chaplain to the late earl. In anticipation of a sudden summons, Lord Derwentwater kept a large collection of arms concealed in the old tower previously described. He had plenty of horses in his stables and elsewhere, and with his servants and retainers, and the number of miners in his employ, he could at anytime raise two or three hundred men, and arm and equip them.

Until lately, a secret correspondence had been constantly kept up between the Earl and the Chevalier de Saint George, but for some months no letter had been received from the prince.