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.
and disappeared
and disappeared
[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.]
[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."
HARDLY had the colonel spoken these words than there came a loud shout from one of the men on the roof.
"The cannon, sir—six of them!"
With grave faces we ascended to the leads, and looking in the direction of the road to Chalton, we saw the heavy pieces of ordnance descending the hill, the horses making slow progress on the slippery chalk surface, which, by reason of the heavy rains, was little better than a quagmire.
"The fools have learnt wisdom," grumbled the colonel, as he saw the cannon unlimbered while still beyond musket range. Not even our small ordnance could throw a ball that distance, so we were perforce to remain inactive under a destructive fire.
Seeing that it would be madness to keep the garrison at their posts, I ordered the men to withdraw and take shelter within the courtyard, where, save for an occasional dropping fire from the musketeers, they were in comparative safety, the double thickness of the walls preventing the cannon-balls from passing completely through.
Hardly was the last man down than a sudden roar burst upon our ears, followed by an appalling crash of falling masonry.
The bombardment had commenced,
"If this continue, we shall have nothing but a breastwork of fallen stone to protect us," exclaimed Granville.
"'Tis better than nothing at all," replied the colonel, who was calmly smoking his pipe. "Rubble masonry will serve the purpose better than standing walls. Look!" he exclaimed, pointing through a window. "'Twould have been farewell to us all had we remained on the roof."
The second discharge had blown in a part of the hall, and the roof, together with the culverins, had fallen in with a crash and a thick cloud of dust.
"It has cut off our retreat to the cellars," cried Granville, crestfallen.
"There is another entrance from the buttery," I replied. "But 'tis not yet time to think of retreat."
The cannonade continued for over an hour, during which time thirty-two men clustered in helpless suspense against the inner wall; though at intervals the colonel, dauntless in danger, made his way through the ruined hall to make sure that the pikemen were not advancing to the assault.
The firing had been directed almost at one spot, with the intention of making a wide breach, and in this object the rebels succeeded. To our surprise, however, we heard a trumpet sound a parley, and another envoy appeared summoning us once again to surrender at discretion, otherwise a general assault would be made at daybreak on the morrow. To this proposal we gave a stern refusal.
"At daybreak to-morrow," quoth the colonel. "It gives us a chance. Now is the proper time to ask for volunteers, and to-night I'll lead a party to attempt to spike the guns."
Both Ralph and I expressed our intention of accompanying him, but to this he objected, saying that our place was within the walls of the castle. Upon calling for volunteers, not less than twenty showed their willingness to make the attempt, and of these Colonel Firestone selected six.
For the rest of the day we were unmolested, and making the most of this respite, we set about strengthening the battered walls and repairing the breach with a wall of rough masonry faced with earth and straw.
As night drew on, the men selected for the forlorn attempt were mustered. Each of these was provided with a hammer and a couple of steel spikes, and in addition they were armed with swords and pistols.
The colonel gave the word in a low tone, and in perfect silence handgrips were exchanged, and the little party filed out through the postern.
Directly they had vanished through the darkness, the rest of the garrison manned the walls, where, with matches ready to light, we waited in deadly silence the result of the hazardous enterprise.
We relied upon the guns being in the same position they had occupied during the day. Although well in the rear of the rebel lines, they commanded a clear front, so that, had the enemy neglected to post sentinels in the intervening gap, our men would doubtless be able to reach the object of their endeavours without hindrance.
Half an hour elapsed without any signs of the movements of our friends, though several of the watchers declared they heard the blows of the hammers as the spikes were driven in—a manifest impossibility, owing to the distance between the castle and the guns.
Suddenly the darkness was pierced by a bright flash, followed by a report of a musket.
Other flashes came in quick succession, and the next instant the whole of the rebel lines became a ring of spitting fire.
The sortie had been discovered, and the besiegers in the trenches, not knowing the cause of the alarm, had expected a sudden attack, and in a panic had opened fire on all sides.
For over a quarter of an hour the fusillade continued, till we could hear the trumpets sounding and the voices of the rebel officers calling to their men to desist then all became quiet.
Although the postern was ready to be opened at the first signs of their return, none of our gallant friends reappeared, so with sorrowful hearts we realised that seven good men were lost to our little garrison.
Even had Firestone succeeded in spiking the guns, our position was indeed desperate. Scarce a mere handful of worn men remained to hold the shattered walls; and, at any moment, the rebels were likely to throw all their foot into the breach to attempt to carry the castle by escalade.
Would we see the setting of the morrow's sun? None could say.
"Poor old Firestone," said Granville. "I fear we shall never see him again. He ought never to have gone."
"His leg was against him; he never had a fair chance," I replied.
"Then why did we allow him to go?"
"Ah, why?" I echoed bitterly.
Brave in conflict, crafty and wary in danger, and possessed of iron nerve, Firestone was undoubtedly a severe loss to us. Strangely enough, when he proposed to lead the forlorn hope, none of us gave a thought to his one physical defect. On horseback he was the equal of any man, but when on foot the circumstances were totally different, and we blamed ourselves for letting him go.
For us sleep was out of the question; and, impatiently pacing the ruined terrace, we awaited the dawn.
At length the pale grey sky began to brighten in the east. A thick, rolling mist filled the valley, while above the banks of vapour the dark, tree-clad downs assumed distorted and indistinct shapes.
Now, of all times, was the rebels' opportunity, but though the breach was lined with our musketeers, there came no sign of the promised assault.
As the day drew on the slanting rays of the rising sun gradually dispersed the mist, and presently we could see the rebel lines, marked by thin columns of smoke, where the men were preparing their morning meal. Then the ground on which the cannon had stood became visible, but instead of the six pieces of ordnance only three remained, each surrounded by a crowd of soldiers.
As we looked, one of the guns was limbered up, and made off in the direction of Chalton village, and shortly afterwards another followed.
Only one now remained, its muzzle threateningly trained on the castle, yet 'twas evident that something was amiss, for men were hard at work on it.
"Firestone has not thrown himself away without reason," I exclaimed. "See, they must have spiked every gun."
"Five of them hopelessly so, it seems," replied Ralph. "Though perchance this one is not totally disabled, and even yet we may get a taste of it."
"The threatened attack at daybreak has not taken place, nevertheless," I observed. "The rebels are not standing to their arms."
"Perchance they await the support of an artillery fire. But let's to breakfast, for later on we may have other work on hand."
We lost no time in falling in with Granville's suggestion, and immediately after we set the men to work on constructing thick wooden mantlets, under the cover of which we still further repaired the breach in the walls.
Unfortunately, a great part of the dislodged masonry had fallen outwards, almost filling in the moat immediately in front of the weakest part of our defences; but behind the breach we built up a second wall, breast high, backed by a platform of earth, so that we could the better hold our own in a chance hand-to-hand conflict.
Barely had we completed these preparations when there came the deep boom of a cannon. The rebels had unspiked their sole remaining piece of ordnance, and were renewing the attack.
The first shot, being totally unexpected, was particularly disastrous, for three men were struck down, two being killed outright, and one grievously wounded.
While the cannonade lasted, we, as before, could do nothing, but presently we observed the pikemen and musketeers massing in solid ranks, slightly to the left of the line of fire of the cannon. Then two dismounted officers made their way to the front, and took a long and careful look at our defences.
"There's Chaloner!" I exclaimed, pointing to one of the pair, who were clad in complete breast and back pieces over their buff coats, and wore steel motions protected by guards. These accoutrements were not worn by the dragoons, and Granville remarked about the fact.
"'Tis certain the rogue makes himself secure from pike-thrusts," he remarked, with a scornful laugh.
The rebel ranks were set in motion, and, with matches lighted and pikeheads gleaming in the sunlight, they advanced to the attack, the pikemen in the centre and the musketeers on either flank.
So intent were we on the oncoming danger that we almost failed to notice a solitary horseman riding furiously down the hill-side from the clump of trees, from which he had emerged.
Spurring towards the deserted trenches, his horse cleared them at a single bound, and ere either we or the rebels could grasp the meaning of it, the rider was halfway across the intervening ground.
"'Tis Firestone!" exclaimed Ralph and I simultaneously; and we were not mistaken. The musketeers had now opened fire on the daring rider, and the bullets whistled past him on all sides, some tearing up the turf under his horse's hoofs; but he seemed to bear a charmed life, and, untouched, he gained the edge of the moat.
As he slipped from the saddle a bullet struck down his horse, but without hesitation the colonel jumped into the moat, and was soon safely within the postern.
It was no time for explanations, so, picking up a musket, he took his stand with us at the breach, and prepared to receive the shock of battle.
We lay close for fear of the musketeers' fire, till the first line of pikemen, headed by Chaloner, gained the foot of the breach; then, pouring in a heavy discharge of muskets, we caused the line of pikes to waver. But by sheer dint of numbers they pressed on, shouting, "No quarter!"
Pistol and musket shots still rang out, a thick smoke enshrouding both sides, but the brunt of the work was done by sword-cut and pike-thrust. Men shouted in anger, or shrieked in mortal pain, but still the slashing and hewing continued with unabated fury.
For my part, carried away by the heat of the struggle, I was unconscious of what was taking place beyond my immediate front; but presently I found myself face to face with my arch-enemy, Chaloner.
Doubtless his faith in his armour and the fear of Cromwell's threat had tamed his spirit of cowardice, for he fought bravely. Defending myself from his sweeping cuts, I succeeded in delivering some thrusts that, were it not for his steel plating, would have been mortal.
At length I put in a thrust beneath his guard, and the blade struck home through the bars of his helmet.
With a cry, he turned; but ere he could get clear my sword passed between the top of his back-plate and the unguarded part of his bended head. Had he carried his head erect this would have been impossible, but his cowardly instinct caused him to assume that posture, and 'twas his undoing.
Before I could withdraw my blade I saw the butt of a musket descending upon my head, and, with a blinding red glare before my eyes, I lost consciousness.
WHEN I came to, I found myself lying on the grass of the courtyard, with my friends Granville and Colonel Firestone kneeling by my side.
The former had a blood-stained scarf bound round his head, while Firestone's steel cap bore a dent that was a silent testimony to his valour. It was nearly dark, but there was sufficient light to see that on the ground were several motionless objects that but a few short hours before had been the living defenders of my home.
The assault had failed, but the solitary gun still kept up a steady fire.
"How goes the day?" I asked feebly, for my head was whirling, and my throat parched with thirst. "We hurled them back," replied Ralph. "Chaloner's dead we found his body in the breach. At the last moment, when we thought everything was lost, one of the rebels raised a cry that the breach was mined, and they gave back in confusion."
"And how have we fared?"
"Badly. Nine good men killed, and five sorely wounded. There are not ten men left whole. I fear we cannot withstand another onslaught."
"Then we must make use of the secret passage!" I exclaimed, starting painfully to my feet. "None can say that we have not borne ourselves with honour."
Beyond being knocked senseless by the musketeers weapon I was unhurt, and after partaking of food and drink, I felt stronger, though weak in the limbs. For some unexpected reason the rebels did not offer to renew the attack, and in consequence we were able to enjoy a good night's sleep.
Early the following day we had the mournful task of burying the bodies of those who had fallen in the defence of the castle. Especially mournful 'twas as far as I was concerned, since I had known every one of them, save one, from my earliest days. The exception was Sergeant Lawson, who, after slaying four men with his own hand, was shot down at close range by a musketeer.
This done, we inspected the breach, where the bodies of the slain rebels lay thick.
As I looked at Chaloner's corpse, stiff and cold, with the dishonourable wound in the back of his neck plainly visible—for in falling his helmet had come off—I could not help remembering my father's injunction never to let the renegade's footsteps cross our threshold.
I had indeed carried out my sire's instructions, for my enemy had never planted his feet within our walls, though 'twas a near thing.
While at breakfast—the last meal I was fated to partake of within those walls—I questioned the colonel concerning the spiking of the guns.
"'Twas of little avail," he replied. "The mischief was already done. Had we managed it before the breach was made, the result might have been different, and we could still make good our defence. True, we spiked them, but the rebels discovered us ere we made a proper business of the last. I gave the word that each man should look to himself, but I fear they were all overtaken and shot down. For my part, I knew that running was out of the question, so I crawled beneath the gun till those in pursuit had passed by. Then I made good my escape to the woods, but did not hesitate to steal a horse belonging to a rebel officer, and biding my time, rejoined you. As I said, 'twas of little avail, and a matter which anyone could perform."
"A gallant deed, notwithstanding," replied Granville warmly.
"A truce to compliments, young sir," rejoined the colonel. "Look yonder!"
One glance sufficed to show that the rebels were massing for another attack, and if we wished to save ourselves, no time was to be lost.
Our first act was to convey our wounded to the entrance to the secret passage, leaving a man with a lighted lantern to facilitate our retreat. This done, we deliberated whether we should give the rebels warning of our intentions of blowing up the castle, or involve as many of them as possible in the explosion.
Firestone favoured the latter course, arguing that they were rebels, that they refused us quarter, though forsooth we had not asked it, and also that such were the usages of warfare; but Granville and I were opposed to his suggestion.
"They are Englishmen, though they be rebels," I argued, "and the men are acting under the orders of their officers. For my part, I have the satisfaction of knowing that Chaloner will never own this heap of stones, though the rebels seek to gain possession of the castle; but that is no reason why I should like to take life heedlessly."
"As ye will, then," grumbled the colonel. "You were ever a strange lad in such matters. Then we had better take immediate steps to acquaint them with the fact."
We then liberated our sole prisoner, and bidding him inform the Roundhead officers that we intended to blow up the castle, and warning them to keep away, as they valued the safety of their men's lives, we sent the captured pikeman back to the rebel lines.
Meanwhile I had sent a man to the stables for the purpose of shooting our six remaining horses, for though I could not bear to see the deed done, 'twas better than to leave them to the mercy of a horde of rebels, supposing they survived the explosion.
Mustering the survivors of our little band, I informed them, much to their surprise—for they had fully expected to perish to a man in the assault—that we were able to evacuate the castle without further loss of life.
I next paid them according to my father's orders, thanking them for their loyal services both to His Majesty and to our house. Thereupon they gave three lusty cheers, showing that their courage and patriotism even in danger and defeat were undiminished.
Led by Granville, the men marched in good order and without undue haste through the powder magazine, and down the steps leading to the underground passage. Firestone and I tarried to give a final glance back; then, descending the shattered staircase of the tower, we made our way to the magazine.
Here a double train was already laid, and a light close at hand. With the utmost deliberation Firestone applied a flame to each of the sinister ribbons; then, after making sure that both were well kindled, we hurried down the steps to the passage that led to safety.
By the glare of a pair of torches and a lantern we could see our way without difficulty, though our progress was slow by reason of the transport of the wounded men. The tunnel was paved with rough slabs of stone, while the walls and arched roof were composed of flints set in hard cement. The smoke from the torches dispelled any noxious odours, but of damp we found no trace.
We passed three massive doors in quick succession, and bearing in mind my father's warning, we closed and bolted them as we passed. Then, in silence, broken only by the dull rumble of our feet that re-echoed along the hollow passage, we slowly continued our way.
Suddenly there was a deep boom like the noise of distant thunder, and the solid ground beneath our feet trembled with the shock.
The explosion had taken place. Ashley Castle was no more!
Neither Granville nor Firestone spoke to me, for which I felt thankful, my heart being too full of grief and mortification. Like Ralph, I was now homeless, and except for the fact that I had not laid down my life, I had paid the price of loyalty to the utmost farthing.
Of the future I cared not one jot, though before I was clear of the passage my thoughts, thanks to the buoyancy of youth, assumed a more hopeful nature.
We must have walked for the best part of half an hour, and I was wondering where we should emerge, being ignorant of the direction of the tunnel, when the men who were on in front halted.
"The place is blocked up!" exclaimed one of them, who, holding a torch, was examining the rough flintwork.
Firestone and I were quickly at the spot, and we too could see no signs of an aperture, the tunnel ending in a half-moon-shaped wall.
"Surely we are not caught like rats in a trap!" asked Firestone. "Your father doubtless never explored the passage?"
"He would not have shown it us had it been a trap," I replied. "There must be some signs of a doorway or secret entrance. Perchance we have already passed it."
"If we cannot find it, we have tools wherewith we can dig a way out," said the colonel, indicating our weapons, which we one and all, save the wounded men, retained. "I'll warrant the surface of the ground is not ten feet above our heads."
"If the passage leads under the Downs, it may be five hundred," exclaimed Ralph moodily.
"Talking will not find it, so let's to work," said the colonel cheerfully, and taking a torch from one of the men, he began to retrace his footsteps, looking both at the sides and roof of the tunnel as he went.
"The air seems fresh enough," he said. "So we need not fear suffocation for a while, at any rate. But there's no sign of an opening, though your father expressly mentioned 'twas easy enough to find."
At length he returned to the end of the passage, where we had remained, endeavouring to dislodge some of the flints with a stout knife, but without avail. The man who had built that passage must have meant it to last, for the cement was as hard as the flints.
"Let me mount on your shoulders," said I to one of the men, a tall, broad-shouldered farmer from Compton. From this height I could examine the roof, which at no part was more than seven feet in height, though my face was almost touching the jagged flints of the crown of the arch.
In one place it looked as if a crack existed in the cement, and taking the knife from its owner's hands, I scratched the point against the supposed joint in the stonework.
My efforts met with no success, but just at that moment the knife slipped from my hand and fell to the ground. A shout from Firestone caused me to look down in alarm.
"Has it struck your foot?" I asked anxiously.
"Foot? No," he replied. "Fool that I was not to have thought of it before. Look at the knife!"
The steel was deeply embedded in the floor.
I descended from the farmer's shoulders, and stood by while the colonel directed a man to remove the thick deposit of dust that everywhere covered the floor of the tunnel. This done, a square of wood with a rusted iron ring in its centre was laid bare.
"'Tis evident we must go down ere we go up!" remarked Firestone, with a laugh. "Now—pull together!"
Accordingly, the big farmer and another strong yeoman tugged at the ring, but the next instant they were sent crashing into the stone wall of the tunnel, which alone saved them from falling backwards, with the rusted iron held firmly in their hands.
"It has broken off short we must be careful lest we are unable to make use of what is left in the ring," cautioned the colonel, and directing the men to secure a better grip of the fragment of iron that still remained in the slab by means of a strip of cloth, while others used their weapons as levers, the barrier between us and freedom was removed.
Another short flight of steps, followed by a passage less than twenty feet in length and lower than the one we had just traversed, terminating in a spiral staircase.
At the top of these steps was a massive stone slab, balanced on a heavy iron pivot, while two strong bolts kept it in position, so that it could not be moved, save from the side on which we were.
Remembering that extreme caution was necessary, we carefully withdrew the bolts, and slowly pushed the stone, Without a sound, the whole slab turned easily on its pivot, and, to my great surprise, I found that we were looking into a building, while my astonishment was even greater when I discovered it was none other than Chalton Church!
Many a time had I noticed a large tomb in one corner of the church, with a brass showing the effigy of a knight with his legs crossed at the knees and his feet resting on a lion, while I had often tried to decipher the almost illegible writing, "Ci gist..." But up to that very moment I had not the faintest idea, nor had anyone else in or around Chalton, I feel certain, that the tomb was in reality not a tomb, but the egress from a secret tunnel from Ashley Castle.
It was a tedious struggle to worm our bodies through the narrow slit; especially so was it with the wounded men, and deep groans involuntarily rose from their lips as we literally dragged their helpless forms through the aperture.
At length we succeeded, and as we closed the movable slab we heard a faint click. The bolts on the inside had by some ingenious mechanism slipped back into their places, and the exit from the underground passage was firmly closed. Nothing short of the demolition of the spurious tomb would ever reveal the secret tunnel.
Fortunately, the church was deserted, and no one had witnessed our appearance; not that any of the villagers would have betrayed us, for they were stamped with unswerving loyalty, but for the benefit of those who were to inhabit Ashley Castle at some future date (for I had a presentiment that a new castle would rise phoenix-like from the scorched ruins of the old) it was undesirable that the secret should be public property.
I then addressed the sorry remnant of my faithful garrison once more, urging them to return as quickly and secretly to their homes as they were able, and requested them honourably to preserve the secret of their means of escape.
This they promised most readily to do, and after telling the men, ere they set out for their homes, to take their wounded comrades across to the Red Lion till they should recover—for Master Anthony, the worthy host, was as staunch a Royalist as could be found in Hamptonshire—I bade them farewell.
Then, accompanied by Firestone and Ralph, I crossed the little green, and entered this inn, where I made arrangements for the accommodation of the wounded, forcing Master Anthony, much against his wish, to accept a sum of money to recompense horn for his assistance.
As the rebel horse was swarming over the neighbourhood—nay, over the whole county—'twould be unwise for the three of us to travel together, so we resolved to separate and each take his own chance. But before doing so we had a farewell dinner, the last we were likely to have together for many a long day, while our host kept a careful watch for fear of roving parties of the rebel troops.
Firestone had resolved to make his way westward once more, and naturally Granville desired to do the same, so they agreed on a rendezvous at Stoney Cross, in the heart of the New Forest, the colonel journeying by way of Southampton, and Ralph through Bishopstoke and Romsey. Each agreed to wait three days for the other, and if one failed to keep this tryst, the other would continue his journey alone, concluding that some misfortune had befallen his would-be companion.
For my part, I was determined to seek a quiet retreat in the Isle of Wight, and to live there in strict seclusion till the dawn of better days. Little did I dream how Fate was to cross my wish, and what exciting times were in store!
In the midst of setting our plans word was brought that a body of rebel horse was approaching. Our wounded men were already placed in bed in the upper rooms of the inn, and Master Anthony concealed us in some huge barrels that stood on a low oaken bench at one end of the large drinking-room.
Barely were we safely hidden than the door was unceremoniously thrown open, and several soldiers—a dozen at least by the noise they made strode into the room.
Roughly ordering the landlord to bring them drink, and plenty of it, they sat down, removed their steel caps, and began to discourse on the events of the day.
They were, judging by the manner of their conversation, dragoons of Chaloner's regiment, and held their late leader in scant respect, for they even expressed satisfaction at his death. Rough soldiers they were, with a true contempt for cowardice, and Chaloner's behaviour on several occasions had not escaped their notice; while, on the other hand, they confessed to a certain amount of admiration at our desperate deed of self-sacrifice, for, in common with every man in the rebel host that had lain around the castle, they firmly believed that the devoted garrison had perished in the explosion.
The barrels in which we had taken refuge were large, so that we were by no means cramped, but the one in which I lay hidden was encrusted with dried lees of wine, and before long I was seized with an uncontrollable desire to sneeze. Clapping both hands on my mouth, I strove to suppress the sound.
"What's that noise?" demanded one of the dragoons. There was instant silence in the room, though I felt my heart thumping violently against my ribs. Had I not stood in the centre of the cask, I felt certain the barrel would have shaken.
"Ho, there!" shouted one of the soldiers, bringing his tankard down with a crash upon the oak table. "Come hither, rascal!"
I heard Master Anthony shuffling down the stoneflagged passage.
"What do yonder casks hold, sirrah?" demanded the dragoon.
"They are empty, sir," replied the landlord, in a trembling voice.
"Empty, thou lying rogue? I heard someone sneeze!"
"'Twas I, sir. A bad cold, I assure you," pleaded the landlord.
"You are getting light-headed in your cups, Dick!" exclaimed another half-tipsy trooper. "But I'll swear there's good liquor in those casks."
Master Anthony vehemently protested that they were empty. Then, to my horror, I heard another man exclaim:
"Stand aside, you knock-kneed ale-seller! A pistolbullet will show whether you speak the truth."
"Wouldst spoil a good man's casks?" protested the landlord; but his words were of no avail, and I heard the dragoon cock his pistol.
There were, I remember, four of these casks in a row, and three were occupied by us, while one of the two middle ones was empty. There was a chance that the empty one would be the target of the rebel's pistol, but directly I heard the sound of the pistol being cocked, I squeezed myself close to one side of the cask, so that my body was clear of the centre. Then I braced myself up, resolving, even if I were hit, to endeavour to suppress a cry lest I and my companions should be discovered.
It seemed ages ere I heard the report, and with a splintering of wood a hole was drilled through the cask where I stood, the bullet passing close to my knees, and burying itself in the opposite side.
"The old rascal is right, the cask is empty," said one of the men, with a laugh.
"I'll wager a tankard of cider that you'll not nick my mark," exclaimed the soldier who had fired.
"Done cried the other. I tell you, you've lost already."
"A truce to this foolery," interrupted another, evidently a sergeant. "We must needs be back in the camp outside Basing ere dark, and 'tis well over a good twenty miles. To horse! To horse, I say!"
Grumbling and swearing, the soldiers trooped out of the inn, and for the present our peril was past.
At dusk three men in rustic garb emerged from the Red Lion. One set off at a swinging pace down the lane leading to Clanfield, the second strode with awkward gait along a pathway over the hills towards Horndean, and the third, carrying a load of faggots, turned off down the Havant road. 'Twas the parting of the three staunch comrades.
My love-locks had been shorn close to my head, a rough smock covered a suit of worn clothes that would ill become even a farmer, while the faggots I bore served a twofold purpose. They formed a fitting complement to my disguise as a countryman, while in the centre of the bundle reposed my trusty sword, which I would not part with under any circumstances.
I had thought to return under cover of darkness to the thicket on the downs where I had buried the iron box containing the deeds and other documents relating to my home. But on further consideration I came to the conclusion that 'twould be best to let the box remain till a more convenient season.
So, shouldering my burden, I took a long last look in the direction of the distant ruined castle, and then set off resolutely along the southern road.