The Lancashire Witches by William Harrison Ainsworth

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"Then why does she keep out of the way--why does she not surrender
herself?" cried the King.

"Because--" and Alizon stopped.

"Because what?" demanded James.

"Pardon me, sire, I must decline answering further questions on the
subject," replied Alizon. "Whatever concerns myself or my mother alone,
I will state freely, but I cannot compromise others."

"Aha! then there are others concerned in it?" cried James. "We thought
as much. We will interrogate you further hereafter--but a word mair. We
trust ye are devout, and constant in your religious exercises, damsel."

"I will answer for that, sire," interposed Sir Richard Assheton.
"Alizon's whole time is spent in prayer for her unfortunate mother. If
there be a fault it is that she goes too far, and injures her health by
her zeal."

"A gude fault that, Sir Richard," observed the King, approvingly.

"It beseems me not to speak of myself, sire," said Alizon, "and I am
loth to do so--but I beseech your majesty to believe, that if my life
might be offered as an atonement for my mother, I would freely yield
it."

"I' gude faith she staggers me in my opinion," muttered James, "and I
maun look into the matter mair closely. The lass is far different frae
what I imagined her. But the wiles o' Satan arena to be comprehended,
and he will put on the semblance of righteousness when seeking to
beguile the righteous. Aweel, damsel," he added aloud, "ye speak
feelingly and properly, and as a daughter should speak, and we respect
your feelings--provided they be sic as ye represent them. And now
dispose yourselves for the chase."

"I must pray your Majesty to dismiss me," said Alizon. "It is a sight in
which at any time I take small pleasure, and now it is especially
distasteful to me. With your permission, I will proceed to Hoghton
Tower."

"I also crave your Majesty's leave to go with her," said Dorothy.

"I will attend them," interposed Richard.

"Na, you maun stay wi' us, young sir," cried the King. "Your gude father
will gang wi' 'em. Sir John Finett," he added, calling to the master of
the ceremonies, and speaking in his ear, "see that they be followed, and
that a special watch be kept over Alizon, and also over this
youth,--d'ye mark me?--in fact, ower a' the Assheton clan. And now," he
cried in a loud voice, "let them blaw the strake."

The chief huntsman having placed the bugle to his lips, and blown a
strike with two winds, a short consultation was held between him and
James, who loved to display his knowledge as a woodsman; and while this
was going forward, Nicholas and Sherborne having come up, the squire
dismounted, and committing Robin to his brother-in-law, approached the
monarch.

"If I may be so bold as to put in a word, my liege," he said, "I can
show you where a hart of ten is assuredly harboured. I viewed him as I
rode through the park this morning, and cannot, therefore, be mistaken.
His head is high and well palmed, great beamed and in good proportion,
well burred and well pearled. He is stately in height, long, and well
fed."

"Did you mark the slot, sir?" inquired James.

"I did, my liege," replied Nicholas. "And a long slot it was; the toes
great, with round short joint-bones, large shin-bones, and the dew-claws
close together. I will uphold him for a great old hart as ever
proffered, and one that shall shew your Majesty rare sport."

"And we'll tak your word for the matter, sir," said James; "for ye're as
gude a woodman as any we hae in our dominions. Bring us to him, then."

"Will it please your Majesty to ride towards yon glade?" said Nicholas,
"and, before you reach it, the hart shall be roused."

James, assenting to the arrangement, Nicholas sprang upon his steed,
and, calling to the chief huntsman, they galloped off together,
accompanied by the bloodhound, the royal cavalcade following somewhat
more slowly in the same direction. A fair sight it was to see that
splendid company careering over the plain, their feathered caps and gay
mantles glittering in the sun, which shone brightly upon them. The
morning was lovely, giving promise that the day, when further advanced,
would be intensely hot, but at present it was fresh and delightful, and
the whole company, exhilarated by the exercise, and by animated
conversation, were in high spirits; and perhaps amongst the huge party,
which numbered nearly three hundred persons, one alone was a prey to
despair. But though Richard Assheton suffered thus internally, he bore
his anguish with Spartan firmness, resolved, if possible, to let no
trace of it be visible in his features or deportment; and he so far
succeeded in conquering himself, that the King, who kept a watchful eye
upon him, remarked to Sir John Finett as they rode along, that a
singular improvement had taken place in the young man's appearance.

The cavalcade was rapidly approaching the glade at the lower end of the
chase, when the lively notes of a horn were heard from the adjoining
wood, followed by the deep baying of a bloodhound.

"Aha! they have roused him," cried the King, joyfully placing his own
bugle to his lips, and sounding an answer. Upon this the whole company
halted in anxious expectation, the hounds baying loudly. The next
moment, a noble hart burst from the wood, whence he had been driven by
the shouts of Nicholas and the chief huntsman, both of whom appeared
immediately afterwards.

"By my faith! a great hart as ever was hunted," exclaimed the King.
"There boys, there! to him! to him!"

Dashing after the flying hart, the hounds made the welkin ring with
their cries. Many lovely damsels were there, but none thought of the
cruelty of the sport--none sympathised with the noble animal they were
running to death. The cries of the hounds--now loud and ringing--now
deep and doling, accompanied by the whooping of the huntsmen, formed a
stirring concert, which found a response in many a gentle bosom. The
whole cavalcade was spread widely about, for none were allowed to ride
near the King. Over the plain they scoured, fleet as the wind, and the
hart seemed making for a fell, forming part of the hill near the
mansion. But ere he reached it, the relays stationed within a covert
burst forth, and, turning him aside, he once more dashed fleetly across
the broad expanse, as if about to return to his old lair. Now he was
seen plunging into some bosky dell; and, after being lost to view for a
moment, bounding up the opposite bank, and stretching across a tract
thickly covered with fern. Here he gained upon the hounds, who were lost
in the green wilderness, and their cries were hushed for a brief
space--but anon they burst forth anew, and the pack were soon again in
full cry, and speeding over the open ground.

At first the cavalcade had kept pretty well together, but on the return
the case was very different; and many of the dames, being unable to keep
up with the hounds, fell off, and, as a natural consequence, many of the
gallants lingered behind, too. Thus only the keenest huntsmen held on.
Amongst these, and about fifty yards behind the King, were Richard and
Nicholas. The squire was right when he predicted that the hart would
show them good sport. Plunging into the wood, the hard-pressed beast
knocked up another stag, and took possession of his lair, but was
speedily roused again by Nicholas and the chief huntsman. Once more he
is crossing the wide plain, with hounds and huntsmen after him--once
more he is turned by a new relay; but this time he shapes his course
towards the woods skirting the Darwen. It is a piteous sight to see him
now; his coat black and glistening with sweat, his mouth embossed with
foam, his eyes dull, big tears coursing down his cheeks, and his noble
head carried low. His end seems nigh--for the hounds, though weary too,
redouble their energies, and the monarch cheers them on. Again the poor
beast erects his head--if he can only reach yon coppice he is safe.
Despair nerves him, and with gigantic bounds he clears the intervening
space, and disappears beneath the branches. Quickly as the hounds come
after him, they are at fault.

"He has taken to the soil, sire," cried Nicholas coming up. "To the
river--to the river! You may see by the broken branches he has gone this
way."

Forcing his way through the wood, James was soon on the banks of the
Darwen, which here ran deep and slow. The hart was nowhere to be seen,
nor was there any slot on the further side to denote that he had gone
forth. It was evident, therefore, that he had swam down the stream. At
this moment a shout was heard a hundred yards lower down, proceeding
from Nicholas; and, riding in the direction of the sound, the King found
the hart at bay on the further side of the stream, and nearly up to his
haunches in the water. The King regarded him for a moment anxiously. The
poor animal was now in his last extremity, but he seemed determined to
sell his life dearly. He stood on a bank projecting into the stream,
round which the water flowed deeply, and could not be approached without
difficulty and danger. He had already gored several hounds, whose
bleeding bodies were swept down the current; and, though the others
bayed round him, they did not dare to approach him, and could not get
behind him, as a high bank arose in his rear.

"Have I your Majesty's permission to despatch him?" asked Nicholas.

"Ay, marry, if you can, sir," replied James. "But 'ware the
tynes!--'ware the tynes!--'If thou be hurt with hart it brings thee to
thy bier,' as the auld ballad hath it, and the adage is true, as we
oursel's have seen."

Nicholas, however, heeded not the caution, but, drawing his wood-knife,
and disencumbering himself of his cloak, he plunged into the stream, and
with one or two strokes reached the bank. The hart watched his approach,
as if divining his purpose, with a look half menacing, half reproachful,
and when he came near, dashed his antlered head at him. Nimbly eluding
the blow, which, if it had taken effect, might have proved serious,
Nicholas plunged his weapon into the poor brute's throat, who instantly
fell with a heavy splash into the water.

"Weel stricken! weel stricken!" shouted James, who had witnessed the
performance from the opposite bank. "But how shall we get the carcase
here?"

"That is easily done, sire," replied Nicholas. And taking hold of the
horns, he guided the body to a low bank, a little below where the King
stood.

As soon as it was dragged ashore by the prickers, James put his bugle to
his lips and blew a mort. A pryse was thrice sounded by Nicholas, and
soon afterwards the whole company came flocking round the spot, whooping
the death-note.

Meanwhile, the hounds had gathered round the fallen hart, and were
allowed to wreak their fury on him by tearing his throat, happily after
sensibility was gone; while Nicholas, again baring his knife, cut off
the right fore-foot, and presented it to the King. While this ceremony
was performed, the varlets of the kennel having cut down a great heap of
green branches, and strewn them on the ground, laid the hart upon them,
on his back, and then bore him to an open space in the wood, where he
was broken up by the King, who prided himself upon his skill in all
matters of woodcraft. While this office was in course of execution a
bowl of wine was poured out for the monarch, which he took, adverting,
as he did so, to the common superstition, that if a huntsman should
break up a deer without drinking, the venison would putrefy. Having
drained the cup, he caused it to be filled again, and gave it to
Nicholas, saying the liquor was needful to him after the drenching he
had undergone. James then proceeded with his task, and just before he
completed it, he was reminded, by a loud croak above him, that a raven
was at hand, and accordingly taking a piece of gristle from the spoon of
the brisket, he cast it on the ground, and the bird immediately pounced
down upon it and carried it off in his huge beak.

After a brief interval, the seek was again winded, another hart was
roused, and after a short but swift chase, pulled down by the hounds,
and dispatched with his own hand by James. Sir Richard Hoghton then
besought the King to follow him, and led the way to a verdant hollow
surrounded by trees, in which shady and delicious retreat preparations
had been made for a slight silvan repast. Upon a mossy bank beneath a
tree, a cushion was placed for the King, and before it on the sward was
laid a cloth spread with many dainties, including

"Neats' tongues powder'd well, and jambons of the hog,
With sausages and savoury knacks to set men's minds agog"--

cold capons, and pigeon pies. Close at hand was a clear cold spring, in
which numerous flasks of wine were immersed. A few embers, too, had been
lighted, on which carbonadoes of venison were prepared.

No great form or ceremony was observed at the entertainment. Sir John
Finett and Sir Thomas Hoghton were in close attendance upon the monarch,
and ministered to his wants; but several of the nobles and gentlemen
stretched themselves on the sward, and addressed themselves to the
viands set before them by the pages. None of the dames dismounted, and
few could be prevailed upon to take any refreshment. Besides the flasks
of wine, there were two barrels of ale in a small cart, drawn by a mule,
both of which were broached. The whole scene was picturesque and
pleasing, and well calculated to gratify one so fond of silvan sports as
the monarch for whom it was provided.

In the midst of all this tranquillity and enjoyment an incident occurred
which interrupted it as completely as if a thunder-storm had suddenly
come on. Just when the mirth was at the highest, and when the flowing
cup was at many a lip, a tremendous bellowing, followed by the crashing
of branches, was heard in the adjoining thicket. All started to their
feet at the appalling sound, and the King himself turned pale.

"What in Heaven's name can it be, Sir Richard?" he inquired. "It must be
a drove of wild cattle," replied the baronet, trembling.

"Wild cattle!" ejaculated James, in great alarm; "and sae near us.
Zounds! we shall be trampled and gored to death by these bulls of Basan.
Sir Richard, ye are a fause traitor thus to endanger the safety o' your
sovereign, and ye shall answer for it, if harm come o' it."

"I am unable to account for it, sire," stammered the frightened baronet.
"I gave special directions to the prickers to drive the beasts away."

"Ye shouldna keep sic deevils i' your park, man," cried the monarch.
"Eh! what's that?"

Amidst all this consternation and confusion the bellowing was redoubled,
and the crashing of branches drew nearer and nearer, and Nicholas
Assheton rushed forward with the King's horse, saying, "Mount, sire;
mount, and away!"

But James was so much alarmed that his limbs refused to perform their
office, and he was unable to put foot in the stirrup. Seeing his
condition, Nicholas cried out, "Pardon, my liege; but at a moment of
peril like the present, one must not stand on ceremony."

So saying, he took the King round the waist, and placed him on his
steed.

At this juncture, a loud cry was heard, and a man in extremity of terror
issued from the wood, and dashed towards the hollow. Close on his heels
came the drove of wild cattle, and, just as he gained the very verge of
the descent, the foremost of the herd overtook him, and lowering his
curled head, caught him on the points of his horns, and threw him
forwards to such a distance that he alighted with a heavy crash almost
at the King's feet. Satisfied, apparently, with their vengeance, or
alarmed by the numerous assemblage, the drove instantly turned tail and
were pursued into the depths of the forest by the prickers.

Having recovered his composure, James bade some of the attendants raise
the poor wretch, who was lying groaning upon the ground, evidently so
much injured as to be unable to move without assistance. His garb was
that of a forester, and his bulk--for he was stoutly and squarely
built--had contributed, no doubt, to the severity of the fall. When he
was lifted from the ground, Nicholas instantly recognised in his
blackened and distorted features those of Christopher Demdike.

"What?" he exclaimed, rushing towards him. "Is it thou, villain?"

The sufferer only replied by a look of intense malignity.

"Eh! what--d'ye ken wha it is?" demanded James. "By my saul! I fear the
puir fellow has maist of his banes broken."

"No great matter if they be," replied Nicholas, "and it may save the
application of torture in case your Majesty desires to put any question
to him. Chance has most strangely thrown into your hands one of the most
heinous offenders in the kingdom, who has long escaped justice, but who
will at length meet the punishment of his crimes. The villain is
Christopher Demdike, son of the foul hag who perished in the flames on
the summit of Pendle Hill, and captain of a band of robbers."

"What! is the knave a warlock and a riever?" demanded James, regarding
Demdike with abhorrence, mingled with alarm.

"Both, sire," replied Nicholas, "and an assassin to boot. He is a
diabolical villain."

"Let him be taken to Hoghton Tower, and kept in some strong and secure
place till we have leisure to examine him," said James,--"and see that
he be visited by some skilful chirurgeon, for we wadna hae him dee, and
sae rob the woodie."

Demdike, who appeared to be in great agony, now forced himself to speak.

"I can make important disclosures to your Majesty," he said, in hoarse
and broken tones, "if you will hear them. I am not the only offender who
has escaped from justice," he added, glancing vindictively at
Nicholas--"there is another, a notorious witch and murderess, who is
still screened from justice. I can reveal her hiding-place."

"Your Majesty will not give heed to such a villain's fabrications?" said
Nicholas.

"Are they fabrications, sir?" rejoined James, somewhat sharply. "We maun
hear and judge. The snake, though scotched, will still bite, it seems.
We hae hangit a Highland cateran without trial afore this, and we may be
tempted to tak the law into our ain hands again. Bear the villain hence.
See he be disposed of as already directed, and take good care he is
strictly guarded. And now gie us a crossbow, Sir Richard Hoghton, and
bid the prickers drive the deer afore us, for we wad try our skill as a
marksman."

And while Demdike was placed on the litter of green boughs which had
recently sustained a nobler burthen in the fallen hart, and in this sort
was conveyed to Hoghton Tower, James rode with his retinue towards a
long glade, where, receiving a crossbow from the huntsman, he took up a
favourable position behind a large oak, and several herds of deer being
driven before him, he selected his quarries, and deliberately took aim
at them, contriving in the course of an hour to bring down four fat
bucks, and to maim as many others, which were pulled down by the hounds.
And with this slaughter he was content.

Sir Richard Hoghton then informed his Majesty that a huge boar, which,
in sporting phrase, had left the sounder five years, had broken into the
park the night before, and had been routing amongst the fern. The age
and size of the animal were known by the print of the feet, the toes
being round and thick, the edge of the hoof worn and blunt, the heel
large, and the guards, or dew-claws, great and open, from all which
appearances it was adjudged by the baronet to be "a great old boar, not
to be refused."

James at once agreed to hunt him, and the hounds being taken away, six
couples of magnificent mastiffs, of the Lancashire breed, were brought
forward, and the monarch, under the guidance of Sir Richard Hoghton and
the chief huntsman, repaired to an adjoining thicket, in which the boar
fed and couched.

On arriving near his den, a boar-spear was given to the King, and the
prickers advancing into the wood, presently afterwards reared the
enormous brute. Sallying forth, and freaming furiously, he was instantly
assailed by the mastiffs; but, notwithstanding the number of his
assailants, he made light of them, shaking them from his bristly hide,
crushing them beneath his horny feet, thrusting at them with his
sharpened tusks, and committing terrible devastation among them.

Repeated charges were made upon the savage animal by James, but it was
next to impossible to get a blow at him for some time; and when at
length the monarch made the attempt, he struck too low, and hit him on
the snout, upon which the infuriated boar, finding himself wounded,
sprang towards the horse, and ripped him open with his tusks.

The noble charger instantly rolled over on his side, exposing the royal
huntsman to the fury of his merciless assailant, whose tusks must have
ploughed his flesh, if at this moment a young man had not ridden
forward, and at the greatest personal risk approached the boar, and,
striking straight downwards, cleft the heart of the fierce brute with
his spear.

Meanwhile, the King, having been disengaged by the prickers from his
wounded steed, which was instantly put out of its agony by the sword of
the chief huntsman, looked for his deliverer, and, discovering him to be
Richard Assheton, was loud in his expressions of gratitude.

"Faith! ye maun claim a boon at our hands," said James. "It maun never
be said the King is ungrateful. What can we do for you, lad?"

"For myself nothing, sire," replied Richard.

"But for another meikle--is that what ye wad hae us infer?" cried the
King, with a smile. "Aweel, the lassie shall hae strict justice done
her; but for your ain sake we maun inquire into the matter. Meantime,
wear this," he added, taking a magnificent sapphire ring from his
finger, "and, if you should ever need our aid, send it to us as a
token."

Richard took the gift, and knelt to kiss the hand so graciously
extended to him.

By this time another horse had been provided for the monarch, and the
enormous boar, with his feet upwards and tied together, was suspended
upon a pole, and borne on the shoulders of four stout varlets as the
grand trophy of the chase.

When the royal company issued from the wood a strike of nine was blown
by the chief huntsman, and such of the cavalcade as still remained on
the field being collected together, the party crossed the chase, and
took the direction of Hoghton Tower.

CHAPTER IX.--THE BANQUET.

On the King's return to Hoghton Tower, orders were given by Sir Richard
for the immediate service of the banquet; it being the hospitable
baronet's desire that festivities should succeed each other so rapidly
as to allow of no tedium.

The _coup-d'oeil_ of the banquet hall on the monarch's entrance was
magnificent. Panelled with black lustrous oak, and lighted by mullion
windows, filled with stained glass and emblazoned with the armorial
bearings of the family, the vast and lofty hall was hung with banners,
and decorated with panoplies and trophies of the chase. Three long
tables ran down it, each containing a hundred covers. At the lower end
were stationed the heralds, the pursuivants, and a band of yeomen of the
guard, with the royal badge, a demi-rose crowned, impaled with a
demi-thistle, woven in gold on their doublets, and having fringed
pole-axes over their shoulders. Behind them was a richly carved oak
screen, concealing the passages leading to the buttery and kitchens, in
which the clerk of the kitchen, the pantlers, and the yeomen of the
cellar and ewery, were hurrying to and fro. Above the screen was a
gallery, occupied by the trumpeters and minstrels; and over all was a
noble rafter roof. The tables were profusely spread, and glittered with
silver dishes of extraordinary size and splendour, as well as with
flagons and goblets of the same material, and rare design. The guests,
all of whom were assembled, were outnumbered by the prodigious array of
serving-men, pages, and yeomen waiters in the yellow and red liveries of
the Stuart.

Flourishes of trumpets announced the coming of the monarch, who was
preceded by Sir Richard Hoghton, bearing a white wand, and ushered with
much ceremony to his place. At the upper end of the hall was a raised
floor, and on either side of it an oriel window, glowing with painted
glass. On this dais the King's table was placed, underneath a canopy of
state, embroidered with the royal arms, and bearing James's kindly
motto, "_Beati Pacifici_." Seats were reserved at it for the Dukes of
Buckingham and Richmond, the Earls of Pembroke and Nottingham, the
Lords Howard of Effingham and Grey of Groby, Sir Gilbert Hoghton, and
the Bishop of Chester. These constituted the favoured guests. Grace
having been said by the bishop, the whole company took their seats, and
the general stillness hitherto prevailing throughout the vast hall was
broken instantaneously by the clatter of trenchers.

A famous feast it was, and worthy of commemoration. Masters Morris and
Miller, the two cooks who contrived it, as well as the labourers for the
ranges, for the pastries, for the boiled meats, and for the pullets,
performed their respective parts to admiration. The result was all that
could be desired. The fare was solid and substantial, consisting of
dishes which could be cut and come to again. Amongst the roast meats
were chines of beef, haunches of venison, gigots of mutton, fatted
geese, capons, turkeys, and sucking pigs; amongst the boiled, pullets,
lamb, and veal; but baked meats chiefly abounded, and amongst them were
to be found red-deer pasty, hare-pie, gammon-of-bacon pie, and baked
wild-boar. With the salads, which were nothing more than what would,
now-a-days be termed "vegetables," were mixed all kinds of soused fish,
arranged according to the sewer's directions--"the salads spread about
the tables, the fricassees mixed with them, the boiled meats among the
fricassees, roast meats amongst the boiled, baked meats amongst the
roast, and carbonadoes amongst the baked." This was the first course
merely. In the second were all kinds of game and wild-fowl, roast herons
three in a dish, bitterns, cranes, bustards, curlews, dotterels, and
pewits. Besides these there were lumbar pies, marrow pies, quince pies,
artichoke pies, florentines, and innumerable other good things. Some
dishes were specially reserved for the King's table, as a baked swan, a
roast peacock, and the jowl of a sturgeon soused. These and a piece of
roast beef formed the principal dishes.