The Lancashire Witches by William Harrison Ainsworth
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William Harrison Ainsworth >> The Lancashire Witches
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"Mother Demdike has not done with her yet," observed Chattox.
"You are right," replied Mistress Nutter. "The old hag descends the
staircase leading to the vault, and approaches the miserable captive.
With her there are no supplications--no arguments; but commands and
terrible threats. She is as unsuccessful as her envoy. Alizon has gained
courage and defies her."
"Ha! does she so?" exclaimed Mother Chattox. "I am glad of it."
"The solid floor resounds with the stamping of the enraged witch,"
pursued Mistress Nutter. "She tells Alizon she will take her to Pendle
Hill at midnight, and there offer her up as a sacrifice to the Fiend. My
child replies that she trusts for her deliverance to Heaven--that her
body may be destroyed--that her soul cannot be harmed. Scarcely are the
words uttered than a terrible clangour is heard. The walls of the
dungeon seem breaking down, and the ponderous columns reel. The demon
statue rises on its throne, and a stream of flame issues from its brow.
The doors of the cells burst open, and with the clanking of chains, and
other dismal noises, skeleton shapes stalk forth, from them, each with a
pale blue light above its head. Monstrous beasts, like tiger-cats, with
rough black skins and flaming eyes, are moving about, and looking as if
they would spring upon the captive. Two gravestones are now pushed
aside, and from the cold earth arise the forms of Blackburn, the robber,
and his paramour, the dissolute Isole de Heton. She joins the grisly
throng now approaching the distracted girl, who falls insensible to the
ground."
"Can you see aught more?" asked the hag, as Mistress Nutter still bent
eagerly over the caldron.
"No; the whole chamber is buried in darkness," replied the lady; "I can
see nothing of my poor child. What will become of her?"
"I will question Fancy," replied the hag, throwing some fresh
ingredients into the chafing-dish; and, as the smoke arose, she
vociferated, "Come hither, Fancy; I want thee, my fondling, my sweet.
Come quickly! ha! thou art here."
The familiar was still invisible to Mistress Nutter, but a slight sound
made her aware of his presence.
"And now, my sweet Fancy," pursued the hag, "tell us, if thou canst,
what will be done with Alizon, and what course we must pursue to free
her from old Demdike?"
"At present she is in a state of insensibility," replied a harsh voice,
"and she will be kept in that condition till she is conveyed to the
summit of Pendle Hill. I have already told you it is useless to attempt
to take her from Malkin Tower. It is too well guarded. Your only chance
will be to interrupt the sacrifice."
"But how, my sweet Fancy? how, my little darling?" inquired the hag.
"It is a perplexing question," replied the voice; "for, by showing you
how to obtain possession of the girl, I disobey my lord."
"Ay, but you serve me--you please me, my pretty Fancy," cried the hag.
"You shall quaff your fill of blood on the morrow, if you do this for
me. I want to get rid of my old enemy--to catch her in her own toils--to
send her to a dungeon--to burn her--ha! ha! You must help me, my little
sweetheart."
"I will do all I can," replied the voice; "but Mother Demdike is cunning
and powerful, and high in favour with my lord. You must have mortal aid
as well as mine. The officers of justice must be there to seize her at
the moment when the victim is snatched from her, or she will baffle all
your schemes."
"And how shall we accomplish this?" asked Mother Chattox.
"I will tell you," said Mistress Nutter to the hag. "Let him put on the
form of Richard Assheton, and in that guise hasten to Rough Lee, where
he will find the young man's cousin, Nicholas, to whom he must make
known the dreadful deed about to be enacted on Pendle Hill. Nicholas
will at once engage to interrupt it. He can arm himself with the weapons
of justice by taking with him Roger Nowell, the magistrate, and his
myrmidon, Potts, the attorney, both of whom are detained prisoners in
the house by my orders."
"The scheme promises well, and shall be adopted," replied the hag; "but
suppose Richard himself should appear first on the scene. Dost know
where he is, my sweet Fancy?"
"When I last saw him," replied the voice, "he was lying senseless on the
ground, at the foot of Malkin Tower, having been precipitated from the
doorway by Mother Demdike. You need apprehend no interference from him."
"It is well," replied Mother Chattox. "Then take his form, my pet,
though it is not half as handsome as thy own."
"A black skin and goat-like limbs are to thy taste, I know," replied the
familiar, with a laugh.
"Let me look upon him before he goes, that I may be sure the likeness is
exact," said Mistress Nutter.
"Thou hearest, Fancy! Become visible to her," cried the hag.
And as she spoke, a figure in all respects resembling Richard stood
before them.
"What think you of him? Will he do?" said Mother Chattox.
"Ay," replied the lady; "and now send him off at once. There is no time
to lose."
"I shall be there in the twinkling of an eye," said the familiar; "but I
own I like not the task."
"There is no help for it, my sweet Fancy," cried the hag. "I cannot
forego my triumph over old Demdike. Now, away with thee, and when thou
hast executed thy mission, return and tell us how thou hast sped in the
matter."
The familiar promised obedience to her commands, and disappeared.
CHAPTER XIV.--HOW ROUGH LEE WAS AGAIN BESIEGED.
Parson Holden, it will be remembered, left Rough Lee, charged by Potts
with a message to Sir Ralph Assheton, informing him of his detention and
that of Roger Nowell, by Mistress Nutter, and imploring him to come to
their assistance without delay. Congratulating himself on his escape,
but apprehensive of pursuit, the worthy rector, who, as a keen
huntsman, was extremely well mounted, made the best of his way, and had
already passed the gloomy gorge through which Pendle Water swept, had
climbed the hill beyond it, and was crossing the moor now alone lying
between him and Goldshaw, when he heard a shout behind him, and, turning
at the sound, beheld Blackadder and another mounted serving-man issuing
from a thicket, and spurring furiously after him. Relying upon the speed
of his horse, he disregarded their cries, and accelerated his pace; but,
in spite of this, his pursuers gained upon him rapidly.
While debating the question of resistance or surrender, the rector
descried Bess Whitaker coming towards him from the opposite direction--a
circumstance that greatly rejoiced him; for, aware of her strength and
courage, he felt sure he could place as much dependence upon her in this
emergency as on any man in the county. Bess was riding a stout,
rough-looking nag, apparently well able to sustain her weight, and
carried the redoubtable horsewhip with her.
On the other hand, Holden had been recognised by Bess, who came up just
as he was overtaken and seized by his assailants, one of whom caught
hold of his cassock, and tore it from his back, while the other, seizing
hold of his bridle, endeavoured, in spite of his efforts to the
contrary, to turn his horse round. Many oaths, threats, and blows were
exchanged during the scuffle, which no doubt would have terminated in
the rector's defeat, and his compulsory return to Rough Lee, had it not
been for the opportune arrival of Bess, who, swearing as lustily as the
serving-men, and brandishing the horsewhip, dashed into the scene of
action, and, with a few well-applied cuts, liberated the divine. Enraged
at her interference, and smarting from the application of the whip,
Blackadder drew a petronel from his girdle, and levelled it at her head;
but, ere he could discharge it, the weapon was stricken from his grasp,
and a second blow on the head from the but-end of the whip felled him
from his horse. Seeing the fate of his companion, the other serving-man
fled, leaving Bess mistress of the field.
The rector thanked her heartily for the service she had rendered him,
and complimented her on her prowess.
"Ey'n neaw dun mitch to boast on i' leatherin' them two seawr-feaced
rapscallions," said Bess, with becoming modesty. "Simon Blackadder an ey
ha' had mony a tussle together efore this, fo he's a feaw tempert felly,
an canna drink abowt fightin', boh he has awlus found me more nor his
match. Boh save us, your reverence, what were the ill-favort gullions
ridin' after ye for? Firrups tak 'em! they didna mean to rob ye,
surely?"
"Their object was to make me prisoner, and carry me back to Rough Lee,
Bess," replied Holden. "They wished to prevent my going to Whalley,
whither I am bound, to procure help from Sir Ralph Assheton to liberate
Master Roger Nowell and his attorney, who are forcibly detained by
Mistress Nutter."
"Yo may spare yer horse an yersel the jorney, then, reverend sir,"
replied Bess; "for yo'n foind Sir Tummus Metcawfe, wi' some twanty or
throtty followers, armed wi' bills, hawberts, petronels, and calivers,
at Goldshaw, an they win go wi' ye at wanst, ey'm sartin. Ey heerd sum
o' t' chaps say os ow Sir Tummus is goin' to tak' possession o' Mistress
Robinson's house, Raydale Ha', i' Wensley Dale, boh nah doubt he'n go
furst wi' yer rev'rence, 'specially as he bears Mistress Nutter a
grudge."
"At all events, I will ask him," said Holden. "Are he and his followers
lodged at your house, Bess?"
"Yeigh," replied the hostess, "some on 'en are i' th' house, some i' th'
barn, an some i' th' stables. The place is awtogether owerrun wi' 'em.
Ey wur so moydert an wurrotit wi' their ca'in an bawlin fo' ele an
drink, that ey swore they shouldna ha' another drawp wi' my consent; an,
to be os good os my word, ey clapt key o' t' cellar i' my pocket, an
leavin' our Margit to answer 'em, ey set out os yo see, intendin' to go
os far as t' mill, an comfort poor deeavely Ruchot Baldwyn in his
trouble."
"A most praiseworthy resolution, Bess," said the rector; "but what is to
be done with this fellow?" he added, pointing to Blackadder, who, though
badly hurt, was trying to creep towards the petronel, which was lying at
a little distance from him on the ground.
Perceiving his intention, Bess quickly dismounted, and possessing
herself of the weapon, stepped aside, and slipping off one of the bands
that confined the hose on her well-shaped leg, grasped the wounded man
by the shoulders, and with great expedition tied his hands behind his
back. She then lifted him up with as much ease as if he had been an
infant, and set him upon his horse, with his face towards the tail. This
done, she gave the bridle to the rector, and handing him the petronel at
the same time, told him to take care of his prisoner, for she must
pursue her journey. And with this, in spite of his renewed entreaties
that she would go back with him, she sprang on her horse and rode off.
On arriving at Goldshaw with his prisoner, the rector at once proceeded
to the hostel, in front of which he found several of the villagers
assembled, attracted by the numerous company within doors, whose shouts
and laughter could be heard at a considerable distance. Holden's
appearance with Blackadder occasioned considerable surprise, and all
eagerly gathered round him to learn what had occurred; but, without
satisfying their curiosity, beyond telling them he had been attacked by
the prisoner, he left him in their custody and entered the house, where
he found all the benches in the principal room occupied by a crew of
half-drunken roysterers, with flagons of ale before them; for, after
Bess's departure with the key, they had broken into the cellar, and,
broaching a cask, helped themselves to its contents. Various weapons
were scattered about the tables or reared against the walls, and the
whole scene looked like a carouse by a band of marauders. Little respect
was shown the rector, and he was saluted by many a ribald jest as he
pushed his way towards the inner room.
Sir Thomas was drinking with a couple of desperadoes, whose long rapiers
and tarnished military equipments seemed to announce that they had, at
some time or other, belonged to the army, though their ruffianly looks
and braggadocio air and discourse, strongly seasoned with oaths and
slang, made it evident that they were now little better than Alsatian
bullies. They had, in fact, been hired by Sir Thomas for the expedition
on which he was bent, as he could find no one in the country upon whom
he could so well count as on them. Eyeing the rector fiercely, as he
intruded upon their privacy, they glanced at their leader to ask whether
they should turn him out; but, receiving no encouragement for such
rudeness, they contented themselves with scowling at him from beneath
their bent brows, twisting up their shaggy mustaches, and trifling with
the hilts of their rapiers. Holden opened his business at once; and as
soon as Sir Thomas heard it, he sprang to his feet, and, swearing a
great oath, declared he would storm Rough Lee, and burn it to the
ground, if Mistress Nutter did not set the two captives free.
"As to the audacious witch herself, I will carry her off, in spite of
the devil, her master!" he cried. "How say you, Captain Gauntlet--and
you too, Captain Storks, is not this an expedition to your tastes--ha?"
The two worthies appealed to responded joyously, that it was so; and it
was then agreed that Blackadder should be brought in and interrogated,
as some important information might be obtained from him. Upon this,
Captain Gauntlet left the room to fetch him, and presently afterwards
returned dragging in the prisoner, who looked dogged and angry, by the
shoulders.
"Harkye, fellow," said Sir Thomas, sternly, "if you do not answer the
questions I shall put to you, truly and satisfactorily, I will have you
taken out into the yard, and shot like a dog. Thus much premised, I
shall proceed with my examination. Master Roger Nowell and Master Thomas
Potts, you are aware, are unlawfully detained prisoners by Mistress
Alice Nutter. Now I have been called upon by the reverend gentleman here
to undertake their liberation, but, before doing so, I desire to know
from you what defensive and offensive preparations your mistress has
made, and whether you judge it likely she will attempt to hold out her
house against us?"
"Most assuredly she will," replied Blackadder, "and against twice your
force. Rough Lee is as strong as a castle; and as those within it are
well-armed, vigilant, and of good courage, there is little fear of its
capture. If your worship should propose terms to my mistress for the
release of her prisoners, she may possibly assent to them; but if you
approach her in hostile fashion, and demand their liberation, I am well
assured she will resist you, and well assured, also, she will resist you
effectually."
"I shall approach her in no other sort than that of an enemy," rejoined
Sir Thomas; "but thou art over confident, knave. Unless thy mistress
have a legion of devils at her back, and they hold us in check, we will
force a way into her dwelling. Fire and fury! dost presume to laugh at
me, fellow? Take him hence, and let him be soundly cudgeled for his
insolence, Gauntlet."
"Pardon me, your worship," cried Blackadder, "I only smiled at the
strange notions you entertain of my mistress."
"Why, dost mean to deny that she is a witch?" demanded Metcalfe.
"Nay, if your worship will have it so, it is not for me to contradict
you," replied Blackadder.
"But I ask thee is she not a servant of Satan?--dost thou not know
it?--canst thou not prove it?" cried the knight. "Shall we put him to
the torture to make him confess?"
"Ay, tie his thumbs together till the blood burst forth, Sir Thomas,"
said Gauntlet.
"Or hang him up to yon beam by the heels," suggested Captain Storks.
"On no account," interposed Holden. "I did not bring him hither to be
dealt with in this way, and I will not permit it. If torture is to be
administered it must be by the hands of justice, into which I require
him to be delivered; and then, if he can testify aught against his
mistress, he will be made to do it."
"Torture shall never wring a word from me, whether wrongfully or
rightfully applied," said Blackadder, doggedly; "though I could tell
much if I chose. Now give heed to me, Sir Thomas. You will never take
Rough Lee, still less its mistress, without my help."
"What are thy terms, knave?" exclaimed the knight, pondering upon the
offer. "And take heed thou triflest not with me, or I will have thee
flogged within an inch of thy life, in spite of parson or justice. What
are thy terms, I repeat?"
"They are for your worship's ear alone," replied Blackadder.
"Beware what you do, Sir Thomas," interposed Holden. "I hold it my duty
to tell you, you are compromising justice in listening to the base
proposals of this man, who, while offering to betray his mistress, will
assuredly deceive you. You will equally deceive him in feigning to agree
to terms which you cannot fulfil."
"Cannot fulfil!" ejaculated the knight, highly offended; "I would have
you to know, sir, that Sir Thomas Metcalfe's word is his bond, and that
whatsoever he promises he _will_ fulfil in spite of the devil! Body o'
me! but for the respect I owe your cloth, I would give you a very
different answer, reverend sir. But since you have chosen to thrust
yourself unasked into the affair, I take leave to say that I _will_ hear
this knave's proposals, and judge for myself of the expediency of
acceding to them. I must pray you therefore, to withdraw. Nay, if you
will not go hence peaceably, you shall perforce. Take him away,
gentlemen."
Thus enjoined, the Alsatian captains took each an arm of the rector, and
forced him out of the room, leaving Sir Thomas alone with the prisoner.
Greatly incensed at the treatment he had experienced, Holden instantly
quitted the house, hastened to the rectory, which adjoined the church,
and having given some messages to his household, rode off to Whalley,
with the intention of acquainting Sir Ralph Assheton with all that had
occurred.
Sir Thomas Metcalfe remained closeted with the prisoner for a few
minutes, and then coming forth, issued orders that all should get ready
to start for Rough Lee without delay; whereupon each man emptied his
flagon, pocketed the dice he had been cogging, pushed aside the
shuffle-board, left the loggats on the clay floor of the barn, and,
grasping his weapon--halbert or caliver, as it might be--prepared to
attend his leader. Sir Thomas did not relate, even to the Alsatian
captains, what had passed between him and Blackadder; but it did not
appear that he placed entire confidence in the latter; for though he
caused his hands to be unbound, and allowed him in consideration of his
wounded state to ride, he secretly directed Gauntlet and Storks to keep
near him, and shoot him through the head if he attempted to escape. Both
these personages were provided with horses as well as their leader, but
all the rest of the party were on foot. Metcalfe made some inquiries
after the rector, but finding he was gone, he did not concern himself
further about him. Before starting, the knight, who, with all his
recklessness, had a certain sense of honesty, called the girl who had
been left in charge of the hostel by Bess, and gave her a sum amply
sufficient to cover all the excesses of his men, adding a handsome
gratuity to herself.
The first part of the journey was accomplished without mischance, and
the party bade fair to arrive at the end of it in safety; but as they
entered the gorge, at the extremity of which Rough Lee was situated, a
terrific storm burst upon them, compelling them to seek shelter in the
mill, from which they were luckily not far distant at the time. The
house was completely deserted, but they were well able to shift for
themselves, and not over scrupulous in the manner of doing so; and as
the remains of the funeral feast were not removed from the table, some
of the company sat down to them, while others found their way to the
cellar.
The storm was of long continuance, much longer than was agreeable to Sir
Thomas, and he paced the room to and fro impatiently, ever and anon
walking to the window or door, to see whether it had in any degree
abated, and was constantly doomed to disappointment. Instead of
diminishing, it increased in violence, and it was now impossible to quit
the house with safety. The lightning blazed, the thunder rattled among
the overhanging rocks, and the swollen stream of Pendle Water roared at
their feet. Blackadder was left under the care of the two Alsatians, but
while they had shielded their eyes from the glare of the lightning, he
threw open the window, and, springing through it, made good his retreat.
In such a storm it was in vain to follow him, even if they had dared to
attempt it.
In vain Sir Thomas Metcalfe fumed and fretted--in vain he heaped curses
upon the bullies for their negligence--in vain he hurled menaces after
the fugitive: the former paid little heed to his imprecations, and the
latter was beyond his reach. The notion began to gain ground amongst the
rest of the troop that the storm was the work of witchcraft, and
occasioned general consternation. Even the knight's anger yielded to
superstitious fear, and as a terrific explosion shook the rafters
overhead, and threatened to bring them down upon him, he fell on his
knees, and essayed, with unaccustomed lips, to murmur a prayer. But he
was interrupted; for amid the deep silence succeeding the awful crash, a
mocking laugh was heard, and the villainous countenance of Blackadder,
rendered doubly hideous by the white lightning, was seen at the
casement. The sight restored Sir Thomas at once. Drawing his sword he
flew to the window, but before he could reach it Blackadder was gone.
The next flash showed what had befallen him. In stepping backwards, he
tumbled into the mill-race; and the current, increased in depth and
force by the deluging rain, instantly swept him away.
Half an hour after this, the violence of the storm had perceptibly
diminished, and Sir Thomas and his companions began to hope that their
speedy release was at hand. Latterly the knight had abandoned all idea
of attacking Rough Lee, but with the prospect of fair weather his
courage returned, and he once more resolved to attempt it. He was moving
about among his followers, striving to dispel their fears, and persuade
them that the tempest was only the result of natural causes, when the
door was suddenly thrown open, giving entrance to Bess Whitaker, who
bore the miller in her arms. She stared on seeing the party assembled,
and knit her brows, but said nothing till she had deposited Baldwyn in a
seat, when she observed to Sir Thomas, that he seemed to have little
scruple in taking possession of a house in its owner's absence. The
knight excused himself for the intrusion by saying, he had been
compelled by the storm to take refuge there with his followers--a plea
readily admitted by Baldwyn, who was now able to speak for himself; and
the miller next explained that he had been to Rough Lee, and after many
perilous adventures, into the particulars of which he did not enter,
had been brought away by Bess, who had carried him home. That home he
now felt would be a lonely and insecure one unless she would consent to
occupy it with him; and Bess, on being thus appealed to, affirmed that
the only motive that would induce her to consent to such an arrangement
would be her desire to protect him from his mischievous neighbours.
While they were thus discoursing, Old Mitton, who it appeared had
followed them, arrived wellnigh exhausted, and Baldwyn went in search of
some refreshment for him.
By this time the storm had sufficiently cleared off to allow the others
to take their departure; and though the miller and Bess would fain have
dissuaded the knight from the enterprise, he was not to be turned aside,
but, bidding his men attend him, set forth. The rain had ceased, but it
was still very dark. Under cover of the gloom, however, they thought
they could approach the house unobserved, and obtain an entrance before
Mistress Nutter could be aware of their arrival. In this expectation
they pursued their way in silence, and soon stood before the gates.
These were fastened, but as no one appeared to be on the watch, Sir
Thomas, in a low tone, ordered some of his men to scale the walls, with
the intention of following himself; but scarcely had a head risen above
the level of the brickwork than the flash of an arquebuss was seen, and
the man jumped backwards, luckily just in time to avoid the bullet that
whistled over him. An alarm was then instantly given, voices were heard
in the garden, mingled with the furious barking of hounds. A bell was
rung from the upper part of the house, and lights appeared at the
windows.
Meanwhile, some of the men, less alarmed than their comrade, contrived
to scramble over the wall, and were soon engaged hand to hand with those
on the opposite side. But not alone had they to contend with adversaries
like themselves. The stag-hounds, which had done so much execution
during the first attack upon the house by Roger Nowell, raged amongst
them like so many lions, rending their limbs, and seizing their throats.
To free themselves from these formidable antagonists was their first
business, and by dint of thrust from pike, cut from sword, and ball from
caliver, they succeeded in slaughtering two of them, and driving the
others, badly wounded, and savagely howling, away. In doing this,
however, they themselves had sustained considerable injury. Three of
their number were lying on the ground, in no condition, from their
broken heads, or shattered limbs, for renewing the combat.
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